


Brave New World

by Sarah_von_Krolock



Series: Brave New World [1]
Category: Turn (TV 2014)
Genre: Blood, Characters are having fun with having sex, ENSIGN BAKER IS ALIVE!, Espionage, F/M, Love, Mrs. Mary Baker, Romance, Swearing/cursing, Violence, historical setting, in upcoming chapters, maybe nsfw
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-30
Updated: 2018-03-08
Packaged: 2018-04-02 02:17:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 48
Words: 77,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4041907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sarah_von_Krolock/pseuds/Sarah_von_Krolock
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>´Always be polite, no matter the situation`, her mother taught her. She looks at the young man, looking at the cup and back at the young man again. “It’s true what they say… blondes are not really the smartest one around…”<br/>“The rope, Daniel,” sighs the Lieutenant, “the rope… under the promise to keep your hands by yourself.”<br/>“I won’t dismiss a cup of fresh tea.”<br/>With a nod of the Lieutenant the young man unties the rope that holds her hands together, but still he keeps as much distant as possible.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Could I have a cup of tea now?

**Author's Note:**

> I took the freedom to alter the age of Elizabeth a tiny bit to fit for my story. John Simcoe indeed was 19 when he entered the 35th Regiment and 25 as he was promoted to Major and took over command of the Queen´s Rangers.

“Could I have a cup of tea now? Please? I would like to have a cup of tea now. This whole situation is horrible enough; you could grand me at least a cup of tea to calm my nerves! Might it be possible to find at least a few leaves of tea here? I doubt you drowned all the tea of all colonies in Boston…”  
The Lieutenant nods at his subordinate who then takes his leave.  
“And the good one! Not the cheap stuff you might give your soldiers!”  
“You make a lot of demands for a prisoner.”  
“And you act pretty rude and primitive for calling yourself the dawn of a new era. It’s true what they say, the rebels have no manners. Not to mention that you live here in the wilderness, in the cold and wide nothing.”  
The Lieutenant rubs his temple and sighs. “The General will send a Major for interrogation, today.”  
“You can spare him time because I know nothing, like I already told you several times. I had the correspondence of my father with me because he asked me to bring them with me from home; he tries to write his memoirs, now that he is promoted. I have no clue about any military stuff, how should I, seriously, I am just a woman. Do I look like I would know anything about it? Maybe if you let me go my father will show mercy upon you.”  
“And if not?”  
“Then he’ll make sure that I’ll be brought back, no matter what it’ll cost. You will regret it, I swear.”  
“And I thought a Lady wouldn’t swear.”  
“Are you one or why do you think you know us so well?”  
To see the anger on her opponent´s face satisfies her. Such a rude. To capture her on her way to her father, shortly after they left New York. After a horrible travel per sea. Yes, the New World, she sees how wonderful the New World is indeed… Rude rebels and freezing cold. And above all these blue coats bound her hands onto her back because she scratches everyone who comes too close to her. Several amongst them are already marked on their faces. She could also hit the one or other knee with a good solid kick. She hates those shoes, her feet are hurting, but in this one point the heels were very practical. Binding her hands together, on the back, how uncomfortable and rude! Did they ever have their hands bound on the back while wearing a stiff bodice? Obviously not.  
At least the soldier, she has no clue at all about ranks, they are all soldiers for her, comes back with a steaming cup of tea. The steam tells her that it is really freshly brewed and as he placed the cup in front of her on the desk, she can smell that it is one of the good kind. “Thank you, “ she says with a forced smile. ´Always be polite, no matter the situation`, her mother taught her. She looks at the young man, looking at the cup and back at the young man again. “It’s true what they say… blondes are not really the smartest one around…”  
“The rope, Daniel,” sighs the Lieutenant, “the rope… under the promise to keep your hands by yourself.”  
“I won’t dismiss a cup of fresh tea.”  
With a nod of the Lieutenant the young man unties the rope that holds her hands together, but still he keeps as much distance as possible.  
She sighs and rubs her wrists at the relief. “Thank you, finally…” Putting her hands around the cup she sighs again through the warmth that crawls over her hands. “Again, as I said, I have no clue about such things at all. The interrogation by your dear Major will be totally pointless. I am happy enough to know at least the rank of my father, but there my knowledge about the British army ends.”  
“I thought your father, Miss, would be in the Navy.”  
“You see… Where’s the milk? You tell me you would drink it without milk?”  
“I know, we are rude and primitive, we don’t even have milk for your tea…”  
“It’s getting more and more horrible.” She lifts the cub and takes the first sip. It’s better than nothing. “When will your dear Major arrive?”  
“It won’t be long until he arrives.”  
“I wish to have a bath afterwards.”  
“Excuse me?”  
“A bath, have you heard of it? I wish to have a bath afterwards, a hot one. Only because I am surrounded now by rebels doesn’t mean I have to smell like one. Or are you not even having fire and water?” She can hear the Lieutenant grumbling. Oh, he is already regretting it capturing her, she can tell by the look on his face. “And I want at least a proper shelter. As proper as it’s possible out here,” she murmurs, pulling a face while letting her gaze wandering around. “And if I take that bath…”  
“I never said you…”  
“If I take that bath I hope you’ll keep all your man off my shelter, I guess otherwise my father would castrate every single one on his own. When I am not faster. I expect at least a hint of proper behaviour from you and your men… Sir. Be aware that I will tell my father every single bit that happened here.”  
The man on the other side of the table rolled with his eyes. He hopes that Major Tallmadge will come quickly with further instructions of the General on how to handle this special prisoner. It was more or less an accident… They thought it was the carriage of a royalist General. False information. That’s exactly the reason why everybody in their service should be able to read.


	2. Send my greetings to your almighty General

“How is she?”  
“Well, she has an appealing appearance.” It takes a moment for the Lieutenant to recognise the expression of the Major and he jumps shortly. “Oh! Well, I mean, she hasn’t complained for the last two hours, she is calm as long as she has her tea I guess… We tried to be as careful as possible as we saw that it was indeed no loyalist General but well… just a woman… I guess she is… well.”  
“Good, the General wouldn’t be pleased to hear something different.” The young Major gives the bridles of his horse to a soldier, following the Lieutenant through the camp.  
“We put her into one of the officers’ barracks. It seemed to be the best idea because of the weather. I ordered also two soldiers standing always guard, of course.”  
“Good,” the young Major nods, taking a few papers, letters, that are given to him and overflows these before reaching the barrack and entering it. By doing so he takes off his hat, surprised by the comfortable warmth that lingers in the building through a burning oven. He hasn’t felt so much warmth in weeks since the winter started to crawl over this country.  
“And you are?...”  
“I am sorry, Miss,” he replies immediately at the woman sitting at the table with a cup in her hands and looking up to him. “I am Major Benjamin Tallmadge; I hope the circumstances aren’t that uncomfortable for you? I can assure you that we will try our best to make it as comfortable as possible for you.”  
“Well… it’s no St. James Palace…” She eyes him over the edge of the cup while taking a sip, how he takes off his cape and puts it over the only remaining chair in the one-roomed barrack, placing his hat on the table and sitting down.  
A crooked smile grows on his lips. “No, sadly it’s not. Despite our difference I wouldn’t mind rather being now there than here concerning the weather and season.”  
“Winter in a heated Palace is much more tolerable than in the wilderness, right?”  
“I never spent a winter in a Palace but I imagine it way more comfortable, yes.”  
“I can tell you: it is. So, you are the Major send by the almighty General to interrogate me?”  
“It seems so, yes. Miss…”  
“To spare us both time, Mister Tallmadge, I know nothing what can be of any use for you. And I doubt that a recipe for a hair cures that’ll keep your hair soft and silky even in the wet-cold wind of winter is really helpful in a war.”  
He looks at her for a short moment before clearing his voice. “I agree, that wouldn’t be helpful. But maybe you can answer me a few questions, Miss…”  
“I already answered your rude Lieutenant questions. Ask him, Mister Tallmadge.”  
“Well, I would rather like to ask a beautiful young Lady than a grumpy bitter Lieutenant,” he smiles.  
“Too bad for you.” She takes another sip of the tea in her cup and turns her gaze away.  
Thank the Lord that the Royalists send men into war and not women… “Maybe… you can accept my deepest apologies that it was just a terrible accident that the carriage was hijacked with you. Our men had false information. They thought that maybe a carriage with the regalia of General Cornwallis there would be someone inside with importance to said General. And not the daughter of an Admiral of the Navy.”  
“My father is good friends with the General. He lends him the carriage to escort me from the New York harbour to Philadelphia to attend his promotion. I hope I am not going to miss it.”  
“Don’t worry, my Lady, an exchange is already settled within a week. After hearing our men captured a woman the General didn’t spare any effort to arrange a prisoner exchange as fast as possible.”  
“How generous…” She looks up as the door opens again and two men carry a wooden tub into the barrack. Immediately she puts the cup down to the table and claps her hands with glee. “My bath!”  
A bath? Seriously? Is she commanding these men around here? She is, he thinks after he sees buckets of steaming water are carried in.  
“If you excuse me now, Mister Tallmadge? We can continue our chat another time over a wonderful cup of tea, but for now there lies a more urgent matter for me ahead.” She rises from her chair, walking around the table. Taking hat and cape she pushes both into the Major hands and shoves him towards the door. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Mister Tallmadge and send my greetings to your almighty General, goodnight.”  
He turns around and looks in disbelief at the door as she literally shoved him out and shuts the door in his back. Maybe they should rethink the idea of women working for the military…

She takes a deep breath and sighs as she leans against the door. Finally she is alone again. She feels uncomfortable through and through in this camp, surrounded only by men who haven’t seen a women in ages possibly. With that thought, she takes one of the chairs and blockades with the backrest the doorknob, barricading the door. Why did she only send her maid ahead… why was she only persistent that she is a grown up girl and can for sure take the travel to Philadelphia on her own? If she would have kept her maid at her side… She had enough time by now to study this place; the door and a small window are the only ways to get out. Sadly she won’t be able to fit through the window… even nude it would be too small for her. And as if she would with a freezing wind outside… She can only hope that her father won’t wait the whole week and organises a raid of this camp on his own as fast as possible.


	3. Miss Elizabeth threw apples at me

He checked his uniform and hair one last time in a mirror before he knocks at the door. It’s not only an Admiral, but also his godfather behind the door, he should look his best. With his hat under his arm, he enters after a voice from the inside allowed him to. He had no chance to salute and greet as the man behind the desk looks up from his writing and his face lightens up in an instant. Putting the quill aside, he stands up, walking around the desk and taking the younger one in a tight embrace. “Welcome, boy, good to see you finally again!” He pats him on the back before he releases him.  
Older than he remembered him, but still his pats on the back stealing shortly his breath.  
The hands resting on the shoulders, he looks up and down on him. “You look good, boy! The service for the Crown is doing you well. Come, sit down. I heard about your promotion to Captain, I was indeed very proud to hear of it, boy. And then shortly after, the news you would now command your own troops, the Queen´s Rangers… I am very proud of you, boy. I always knew you would make your way in the army.”  
He was sitting down in the chair in front of the desk while the Admiral pours two glasses with a honey-golden liquid and then handing him one glass. “Thank you, Sir. I am honoured to hear those words from you, Sir. And… about receiving the call from you for today. I was delighted about having a chance to see you again, Sir.”  
“How could I dismiss a chance to see my dear godson again? Especially now that his career for the King really starts,” the older one grins. “I would also be pleased to welcome you on my promotion ceremony.”  
“Congratulations on this, Sir.”  
“Thank you, boy.”  
He rolls with his eyes without the other one recognising it. For gods sake… he still calls him boy… “It will be my pleasure but I doubt this is the reason why you called me here, Sir.”  
“True… It is not the main reason.” The Admiral sighs, leaning forward. “The truth is… Elizabeth arrived yesterday at the New York harbour.”  
He almost spit the drink out again, he started to pour down his throat and ended in a coughing.  
“I assume by your reaction you still remember her,” he smiles.  
“How could I forget, Sir. Miss Elizabeth threw apples at me.” And she hit. Apples can really hurt and leave bruises. An Apple a day keeps the doctor away, they say. Sure. When you throw these at them…  
He sighs. What for peaceful times these were… “Well, with her she had all my correspondence. I asked her to bring it with her. But instead of my daughter and my correspondence, her maid and her luggage were the only things that arrived here yesterday. The carriage with her has been captured by rebels.”  
He himself is not aware of how he sits up straighter by this news, but his godfather sees it of course. “These are shocking news indeed, Sir. I am sad to hear this. I guess a prisoner exchange is arranged by now?”  
“In a week, yes. But here comes the reason why I called you exactly in here for today. I don’t want to wait this week to have my Lizzie back. I want her to be safe and sound. Now. I want her here as soon as possible. I don’t trust the continentals; I don’t trust them to treat her right. I haven’t slept the whole night; the fear for my little girl keeps me awake. I know you, boy. You’ll think maybe my correspondence might be of more importance. What if the rebels can actually read and reading out of my letters harbours we want to attack, what our tactics are, places the Crown is working on conquering… But boy, trust me when I tell you that you’ll understand when you’ll have a daughter on your own one day. I never cared that she isn’t it by nature. She always was simply my daughter. And when you hold your daughter for the first time in your arms, everything changes. You change. Your point of view on the world changes. The world changes for you. Everything changes. Nothing will be then more important than her being safe and sound. I failed in protecting her. And I ask you know… bring me back my daughter. I have heard and read of your victories. I have read about your capture. I have read about Setauket and Valley Forge. Of course I know everything. I always had my men laying two eyes on you. You’re my godson, it’s my duty.”  
He suddenly feels like a little child that has been caught doing something forbidden.  
“But you were always a man of action.”  
“Are you asking me to free Miss Elizabeth, Sir?”  
“Yes. That’s what I do.”  
“Well… I have my duties, Sir. By the command of Major…”  
“I don’t care for any Majors command. Leave that to me.”  
“And… Sir… why should I disobey my orders? To play the white knight in shining armour on a white steed who saves the Princess from the terrible dragon?”  
“Actually, yes,” nods the Admiral. “This and maybe I should mention that I can promise that you’ll be promoted to a Major. Not now, but for sure this year. I have a lot of friends amongst the Generals and Admirals. By the time summer has arrived you’ll be a Major then. No need to listen to a command of any other Major, hm? Major John Graves Simcoe. Sounds good in my ears. Major Simcoe, commander of the Queen´s Rangers… If you bring back my Lizzie I will also support you more than ever, you and your Rangers. Is that enough to change your mind about disobeying your orders?”  
Slowly a smile starts to spread over his face. “What would I be for a godson to dismiss a plea of my godfather who did already so much for me? What would I be for a gentleman to leave a Lady in distress in the hands of rebels? A terrible one, I guess. She will be here by tomorrow morning.”  
“Thank you, boy. Thank you.” He sighs in relief. Every minute that passes by is a minute too much. The unknowing about her wellbeing, the helplessness, the sheer numbness about not being able to do anything on his own is killing him.  
“And… I will have permission on acting on my own?”  
“You’ll get all the permissions you’ll need. Don’t worry about that.” Immediately he takes a new sheet of paper and his quill, dipping the quill into the ink and starts to write. “At first you need to be satisfied with his. The words of an Admiral confirming that you acted in the name of the Crown and King. The official form will come later. I guess everyone will be thankful when you spot with your men rebels in the wilderness and simply following them into their camp, making sure they won’t do any harm to the Crown.”  
“Oh yes, the people are very thankful when we do so. They are far too easy to spot. Even in the dark.” He smiles as he hands the paper. “Thank you, Sir. It will be a pleasure to work for the great Admiral Samuel Graves.”  
“I have to thank you, boy.”


	4. Too bad that you’re on the wrong side, Mister Tallmadge

The night was horrible. Whatever this is that they call bed was hard and uncomfortable and she could hear the men outside singing and yelling until the late night. Their potty mouths were not the point, she grew up surrounded by men of the military, and she is kind of used to such language. The things she heard by the age of twelve by men who call themselves Gentlemen… The point is, that they could have done it a bit more silent… The morning was cold; the fire in the oven had almost gone out through the night while she slept. And the breakfast wasn’t even worth it to be called like this. The tea was the best part about it. And the return of Major Handsome. That’s what she calls him for herself from now on. He looks more like a boy than a grown man, the face still innocent with round cheeks and fair blond hair and blue eyes, like a Prince Charming out of a fairy tale. At least he is nice to look at. A little something while she stays ´imprisoned`. And said Major Handsome came to her this morning telling her she would be transferred to Fort Washington. It would be way safer and more secure for her there until the exchange than in this small camp, by the order of General Washington. And people say that it has no advantages in being born as a girl. Well, she does not see it as a disadvantage to get a real room in a real house, heated with a proper bathroom. When night has fallen, so he told her, they will start. They would be an easy target per day for Loyalist troops that are just waiting for Continentals roaming through the land, less protected at this moment than they would be in their camp. The Night gives enough shelter for them to make it safely to Fort Washington.  
As if, she thinks by herself. If her father already arranged it to free her, then for sure he took the best men that serve for King and Crown and the night won’t be an obstacle for these for sure. She would like to get out of here fast, but on the other hand… Fort Washington sounds nice. And obviously they think of her to be the poor, weak spoiled girl that is by the hijacking so traumatised that she won’t pay any attention to her surroundings. Men are fools. Already in this camp, she counted five cannons and twenty tents, in each tent are living up to three soldiers makes 60 soldiers here in a whole. Plus Major Handsome. And now while they prepare a cart, Major Handsome already apologised but an open cart would be easier to protect and handle during the transferring than a closed carriage, also the carriage got a broken wheel from the hijacking, she watches the men how they prepare themselves. Preparing the cart, collecting their weapons and loading pistols and rifles, ten bayoneted rifles she counts. In the shine of the torches she can spot a knife blinking from the inside of a boot or on the belt of a soldier. But most trust on the efficient cause of pistols and rifles. Weapons that are stealing precious times with reloading and targeting… Not really an advantage when being attacked who had precisely planned how to attack.  
“My Lady, we are ready now to leave.”  
Major Handsome tears her out of her thoughts. “A wonderful night for a travel, don’t you think, Mister Tallmadge?” She puts her hand into his he holds out for her; let him leading her to the waiting cart. “Thank you,” she smiles as he also helps her stepping onto it. He follows her, sitting on the opposite of her and a single gesture by him is enough and the whole group begins making its way.  
“It couldn’t have been a more wonderful night for it than it is today, Miss Gwillim, indeed. The sky is clear, the stars and moon are sharing their light with us… are you cold, my Lady?”  
“Well… it would be much warmer in a closed carriage.”  
“I am sorry, my Lady, but as I told you…”  
“Yes, a cart is much more practical for this adventure. Oh no, you really don’t have to, please, Mister… Thank you very much, Mister Tallmadge. That is very kind of you. But aren’t you freezing now?”  
He sits back after he took off his own cape and draping it around the young woman. “You are concerned for my well-being,” he smirks. “Trust me, I lived through worse, this little bit of cold is nothing compared to it. Also… the sight of a beautiful Lady is warming enough.”  
“Oh you,” she giggles, “I didn’t knew that the Rebels could be so charming and good looking at once. You would be to the liking of my father. Young and ambitious, handsome, already a Major… Very promising.”  
“Are you trying to charm me now, my Lady?” The smirk stays on his lips.  
“Does it work?”  
“Well…”  
“Too bad that you’re on the wrong side, Mister Tallmadge. But it’s still not too late to change the side. The army of his King would welcome you with open arms.”  
“Not everyone in it, I guess.” For sure not everyone and he knows someone who would shoot him dead in an instant. “But how about you change sides, Miss Gwillim? You managed it wonderfully to command these men here around in these two days and letting them dancing like marionettes you pull the strings for. The General would be impressed.”  
She makes a waving gesture with her hand. “Oh no. It’s more comfortable to cry in a Palace with velvet and silk than in a wooden house with itchy linen.”  
He laughs lowly. And they say British Ladies are boring.


	5. So wee meet again, Major

“They are leaving now, Captain. The Lady and the Major are on a cart, twenty men accompany them.”  
“How does he look like?”  
“Young, blond… boyish.”  
A crooked smile grows on his lips. That’s how we meet again, Tallmadge, he thinks. The world is small indeed. And precious Fortuna must think of him highly, otherwise she wouldn’t make it all this easy for him. They were about to raid the camp, but seeing they prepared for a leave he decided to wait a little longer. A good choice in his eyes now. They couldn’t make it easier for him than leaving the security of the camp; well, no place is secure when he is about to raid it. They are going to present themselves on a silver plate at him. “How does she look?”  
“Lovely.”  
Slowly he turns his head and looks his subordinate dead in the eye.  
“Uhm, I mean she was laughing and looked alright, very well. I couldn’t spot any bruise or something.”  
Laughing… Why was she laughing? Did she really fell for the boyish charm of Major Hesitation? He remembers her different. “On my sign.” All are nodding simultaneously. Half his men stayed with him, the other half is waiting to storm the camp of the Continentals. He closes his eyes and just listens. Listens to several pair of feet trying to be as silent as possible, cracking of cartwheels, clicking of horseshoes and how all those sounds are getting louder the closer the group is coming. First a small mumbling mixes into these sounds and it turns into as proper conversation a minute later.  
“Well, I have to admit I feel a little bit like a Queen with such an escort.”  
“Your majesty,” the Major smiles, taking his hat off and pressing it against his chest with a small bow. The smile grows into a smirk as the Lady in front of him giggles and he places his hat back.  
“When all men of the continentals are this charming like you, Mister Tallmadge, then maybe I’ll rethink my choice of side.”  
“Am I not enough to change your mind, my Lady?”  
“Oh, Mister Tallmadge… with such a look you’re not a man for only one woman,” she says with a coquettish smile on her lips. If she would have known who listens to their conversation she would have even dared to sit down next to Major Handsome and putting a hand onto his knee. But she has no clue and less idea what the following minutes have in store for her and maybe it’s better this way. She also can’t see how said listener rolls his eyes right now by her giggles and coquettish talking to the Major.  
All are startled as suddenly the horses in front of the cart are baulking.  
“What is this, Harris? What is going on there, man?”  
“Quiet girls, quiet! I don’t know, Major, I can’t see anything!”  
One of the soldiers steps closer and gives more light with his torch. “It’s a silly little snake, Sir, stupid horses… Make way, beast!” Threatened by the fire of the torch that’s pushed towards it the snake slithers its way back into the undergrowth where it had been ripped away a few minutes ago after hissing once at the man. The tension that had been built up amongst the men is slowly fading. Just a snake making its way… No Redcoats, just a silly little snake. The breath of relief can be almost heard from everyone in the silence around them.  
Until suddenly the silence of the night is interrupted by several shots and ten soldiers dropping dead to the ground with bullets in their chest or head. Within seconds everyone is alarmed, raising riffles and musket, drawing pistols and aiming into the darkness around them in the hope to spot the enemy and shoot him dead.  
She shrieked with the sudden shooting, covering her ears with her hands as the Major pushes her to the ground of the cart and shielding her with his own body.  
“Stay down,” he whispers before he sneaks slowly off the cart, drawing his own pistol highly alarmed. Waiting. Waiting for noises that might betray their attackers. A rustling, a cracking, a clicking… But the only noises right now are the wheezing of the horses and how the soldiers taking the loaded pistols from their dead comrades to have an extra shot in their backhand. They have no clue who their attackers are and but everybody would bet that these are Loyalists. Eyes searching through the undergrowth for any kind of hint.  
One shot rings and all are crouching down to the ground, trying to find a hiding spot around the cart. A second shot, a third one and then they fire back in hope to hit.  
The horses are bulking, stepping back and forth, becoming more and more uneasy and Elizabeth decides for herself that it might be better to get off than wait until the horses bolt and she might crash against a tree. But getting off, she does not come far until she’s grabbed by her elbow and pulled back, holding tight against someone. Through the sudden jerk her hat slips into her face and she neither can see her surrounding nor who holds her tight with an arm around her front. She does not see how several men are rushing out of the darkness, not in the famous red coats, but dressed in dark green, almost melting with the darkness of the forest and undergrowth at night. She does not see how they are aiming and shoot or stabbing with the bayonets. She only hears. By god, that is more adventure than she hoped to ever have. Why is it happening to her that she’s caught in the middle of an attack? The noises of dying men, gurgle sounds of blood filling lungs and moans of death are making her shuddering.  
“So wee meet again, Major. How small the world is, don’t you agree?”  
Wait a minute…  
“Simcoe…”  
She hears the snarl behind her and identifies the voice as the one of Major Tallmadge. She manages it to free one arm and pushing her hat back. “John?!” Disbelieve and question are mastering her voice as she sees their opponent with a drawn pistol aiming at them. Probably more at the Major’s head. She had to take a second look, as far as the night allows it. He looks different than she remembers. Tall but not so lanky anymore. Round cheeks retreated to give cheekbones the chance to highlighting the face; generally his face got more edges. He looks… more mature. “What are you doing here?”  
“Having a little chat with Washington’s little pawn, exchanging old memories we share, though I am missing tea and scones.”  
No. He hasn’t changed. Her face tells him that she would like to kick him right now.  
“Your father pleaded me to rescue you out of the filthy hands of the Continentals and bringing you back to him. What would I be for a gentleman to deny such a request, Miss Gwillim?”  
“Oh, now I am Miss Gwillim,” she murmurs and pulls a face. He never called her that. All called her Miss Gwillim and just to annoy her he denied and called her Lizzie. She turns her head and looks at the Major. “See, I’ve told you my father would send someone.” She almost feels sorry for Major Handsome who looks pretty confused that the two of them obviously know each other and that more than superficial. She closes her eyes and wincing as a barrel is held against her head.  
“Call your men back.”  
“Or what? You shoot her?” He grins. “We both know you wouldn’t do so. You have… how to say it… not the guts. Oh, by the way… remember the farmer boy whom you promised no harm would come to him? I remember General Scott executing him.”  
He takes a deep breath, tensing more. How much he would like to shoot him down right now… He should have killed him as he had the chance.


	6. And they say chivalry is dead

“Call your men back and I let her go.”  
“And if I don’t? You’ll shoot her? We both know you’re no man of violence. Either you give her over or I’ll get her with force. It’s your choice. Maybe your decision goes easier when I tell you that in exact this moment the precious little camp is going to be overrun.”  
“Makes me wonder why you haven’t shot by now.”  
“I am a gentleman, Major. Believe it or not. But I rather think of it as rude to spill blood and brain over a Lady’s attire.”  
“And they say chivalry is dead,” comes a faint murmur of her after she dared to open her eyes again.  
He takes the barrel of her temple, aiming at his opponent now, taking a deep breath. He would shoot when he shoots… He could kill him right now… but he could be killed too. Is it true what he said? That the camp is being overrun now by his men? A surprise attack? If it is true… he can’t stay here and… Damn him! Damn him for being right, he wouldn’t dare to shoot, not to think of harming, a woman. Damn him for being right that he’s no man of violence, compared to the Captain. How much would he like to shoot that grin off his face…  
And he knows it. He knows how much Major Hesitation would like to shoot him dead. How much he regrets not having him killed as he could. Big mistake. A war is a war and no Gentleman's Club. Therefore he isn’t surprised at all as the Major locks his pistol, but he is indeed surprised, just surprised as she is, as she is being pushed towards him. Well, he is not as surprised as mad that she’s in the way and blocking his view on aiming and shooting the Major in his back. Bloody bastard.  
Shortly she shrieks as she is being pushed, almost tripping over the uneven ground and the hem of her gown. Luckily she is prevented from tripping by falling against him… yes, he did change, she thinks as she supports herself with her hands onto his chest. Yes… he did… She looks up and sees how he pushes big feathers of her hat with annoyance out of his face. Women and their ridiculous hats…  
Immediately she takes a step back with a grumble, adjusting her hat again. “Well… I guess I have to thank you… Although… You bloody Idiot!”  
“I am sorry that I saved your life,” he says dryly while locking his pistol and putting this away again.  
“They were about to bring me to Fort Washington! Imagine what I could have seen! What I could have report! Damnit… Wait, what… what are you doing?!”  
He grabs her by her arm and dragging her with him. “Looking if the Major is still around, he seemed to like you, you laughed about his cheap attempts…”  
She frees herself out of his grip and steps back. “I hate you…”  
“I have missed you too… Lizzie.”  
She growls at him and clenching her fists. Suddenly she’s Lizzie again…  
“Stop acting like a wild cat. Your father is waiting. He wants to have you safe and sound by morning.” He wants to grab her again but she evades.  
“I can walk on my own, thank you.” And with her head held up high she starts her way. That ended after two steps because she doesn’t know where to go to.  
“If you would be kind enough to follow me, Miss Gwillim?”  
“What am I for you? ´Miss Gwillim` or `Lizzie`?”  
“I thought you wouldn’t like ´Lizzie` now you complain you would be `Miss Gwillim`? Shouldn’t you be by now `Misses Wentworth`?”  
She caught up with him as he started to walk, stepping at his side now. Damn his long legs. “Father cancelled the engagement shortly after you left for this here. Hasn’t he told you?”  
“I imagine to have heard it between coughs to hide it…”  
She rolls her eyes. Not only because of this, but also because she remembers how her father always wrote her when there would be news about him. ´Maybe you would like to hear, my dear daughter, that John got promoted to Captain.` `I think, my dear, it would fill you with delight to know that John has now full command over his own regiment.`. She guesses his first look was on his hand if he wears a ring. Damn, he wears gloves…

Benjamin Tallmadge runs as fast as he could. Simcoe must have told the truth. There were way too lees men of his around them. There must be more. And when they weren’t around them… Out of breath and gasping he hides between trees. They are invading the camp, raiding it. Damnit! It would be suicide to run into it now. He hates it. He hates it to come too late. He hates it to just watch. He hates it to be helpless. That was not why he chose the military as a path of career. It was foolish; it has been naïve to think that the Redcoats would wait until the prisoner exchange. Of course they are lying, cheating bastards. But maybe this time it was just a father who feared for his daughter. Maybe this time it was just an Admiral acting like a father. And no matter if Admiral, General or the farmer, who of them would not try his best to get his daughter out of the hands of the enemy? He guesses… he would do likewise if he would be a father.  
He is also confused how such a sweet Lady can know such a bastard like Simcoe. It’s irritating him a bit. As if they had been, would be, friends. Unbelievable for him. But she knows him… He doesn’t know, but maybe this knowledge could be of use someday.  
They are taking everything they took from the carriage. Of course they want to bring back the belongings of the Admiral too. It makes him bleed seeing comrades being killed and dying and hiding like a coward. He didn’t enlist for that.


	7. Little Lizzie... in the service for King and Crown

“My Lady.”  
She knows he’s mocking her with calling her that and the bow, he makes as they are about to leave. First in a cart and now on the back of a horse, great. He ordered one of his men to get off his horse for her, using instead one of those in front of the cart. At least there are enough horses and she hasn’t to share one. Her first impulse was to deny his attempt to help her to get into the saddle. “Well, well… I thought I’d never lived so long to see the day that you’ll go down on your knees in front of me.”  
He looks up to her, still the hands folded for her to place her foot into his palms. “And I doubt I will ever see the day that you behave like a proper Lady.”  
Not very gentle she placed her foot into his palms and let him help her to get into the saddle with one swift move. Not even a proper side saddle. And that’s how she should spend the night? Wonderful. “How long will it take?”  
“When we don’t have to make a break for the Lady we will be in Philadephia by dawn. I am sure your father will hear out your complains about my rude behaviour towards you and that you had to ride through the whole night. Though I remember you were never reluctant towards riding.”  
She would like to pick up a stone and throw it at him while he gets onto his own horse, throwing the grin off his face. “Amazing, a horse with two asses,” she said instead. She doesn’t care that he literally throws a bayonet at her with his glance. His men obviously don’t know how to act. Their first impulse was to laugh, but… probably they won’t survive it when they laugh about their Captain.  
Without a single word he pulls at the bridle and the animal starts its way. “A Lady with the mouth of a tavern maid,” he murmurs as she catches up to him.  
“Suddenly you give so much about proper behaviour?”  
“We are here the only civilized around; we have to show the rebels at least proper behaviour.”  
“Oh, and of course you are the perfect example of a civilized gentleman.”  
“Yes.”  
She rolls with her eyes before turning her gaze back at him. Still she can’t see much through the darkness, but he really did change. Well, his appearance did at least. The face got sharper; he must have started growing his hair out recently, his whole posture become straighter, making him appearing taller and his shoulders broader… Commander over his own regiment, the insignia of a Captain on his uniform and that with only 25 years. She sees why her father is so proud of him.  
“It is rude to stare, haven’t you been told?”  
She makes a small noise and turns her head away.  
When she thinks he had changed than the word ´change` is by far not enough to describe her. Still noisy, still a rude mouth with a behaviour no one would expect from an Admirals daughter. But by far not anymore the clumsy 17-year old girl he remembers. No, she didn’t grow; she still reaches him only to the chest and that only when she wears shoes with heels. So far he can see she didn’t grow too thin or too big too… it’s… she simply looks more mature. She looks more like a fine woman than the girl as he left five years ago. She looks… not arrogant… but proud. She obviously grew into her part, the position she has to fill, grew into a Lady who knows exactly who she is. “My observer told me you laughed about the boys cheap flirtatious attempts.”  
“He’s a pretty boy,” she shrugs with her shoulders, recognizes his gaze lingering upon her. “And since when do you care?”  
“Bonding with the enemy?”  
“As if… you men are all the same, show a pretty face, throw your hair behind your shoulder and play a bit coquettish and you tell us everything.”  
A smirk grows on his lips. “You tried to spy? Little Lizzie... in the service for King and Crown.”  
“What should I have done the whole day? I could only stay in the cabin and look out of the window… The pretty boy coming to ´interrogate me` was the highlight of the day.”  
“Pretty boy…”  
“I don’t know… but my charm brought me a cabin for my stay, an oven, constant fresh tea and even a hot bath. And they say being captured would be horrible.”  
He didn’t get a hot bath from the ´pretty boy`. And he also didn’t get tea too. He feels somehow insulted.


	8. The harbour always gives a nice view

“So, you commanded a whole camp of battle proven men around and made them doing what you wanted to?”  
She shrugs with her shoulders. “I can be pretty charming, you know?”  
“No, I didn’t.”  
She rolls with her eyes at him.  
Truly her father’s daughter, he thinks. He has to admit that he’s a bit impressed that she came up with it on her own, that she kept cool-headed and didn’t give in to any kind of panic and a burst of tears. Although he guesses she used a burst of tears to get what she wanted. He knows her; he too fell once or twice for her tears before he got to know that they were fake. She’s really good at that and he imagines that she worked hard on her performance to turn it into perfection.  
“It’s not my fault when they haven’t seen a real Lady in ages and falling for the slightest flutter of my eyelashes. It’s never the fault of the woman; we only use the advantages god gave us. Or rather mother nature.”  
“Yes, we men are all animals…”  
“You see it late but you see it at last. That’s something.”  
“What happened to Captain Wentworth,” he changes the topic before he gets a lecture about why women will always be the better humans than men. “I thought you would be Misses Wentworth by now and travelling the seven seas.”  
“I thought father told you very subtle that Captain Wentworth belongs to the past.”  
“He did. Very subtle.” While he embraced him for a goodbye and hiding it between fake coughs. ´she’s not /cough cough/ married, just so you know.` “I thought it would be fixed. I was a bit surprised to be honest.”  
She throws a short glance at him. “Well, it wasn’t that fix obviously. I begged father under tears to cancel the engagement… while I was holding his loaded pistol against my head.” Out of the corner of her eyes she can see how he suddenly turns towards her. A mix of surprise and shock, she can read from his usual controlled expression. “Then father realised what for a terrible and disgusting man, Captain Wentworth is, cancelled the engagement immediately and promised me to never again engage me against my will.”  
“You are pretty radical.”  
“Some situations need radical measurements.”  
“So, it’s unwise to keep a loaded pistol around you?”  
“Depends on your behaviour,” she smirks at him.  
“What did the Captain do to be so disgusting in your eyes? I always told you he would look like a fish…”  
She smiled shortly. He always mocked her with that. Mocking her that she would marry a fish, mocking her that she should learn to swim like a mermaid with a fish as a groom. It’s somehow comforting that he still does. “Father had invited him and a few friends. They smoked and drank… It was late and I couldn’t sleep through the noises downstairs. So I sneaked down. Father had just left the room, a messenger arrived for him. So I listened at the door. They were talking about… me being a wild cat… untamed… and how he, Wentworth, wanted to tame me… He said, these were really his words, that a bitch needs to know who her master is and if a bitch isn’t doing like she’s been told to then a few lashes always worked wonders.” She turns her head towards him. “Mother believed me immediately. Father thought I would have misunderstood something. Only to see that I would rather shoot myself than marry this man made him change his mind.”  
“You could have written it to me.”  
“And then? You would have killed the Captain. I know why you beat that boy on the academy back then, why you broke his face. He only made an inappropriate comment about me and you broke that boys face. A grown man who already admitted to be willing to beat me and god knows what else… you would have killed him.”  
“It would have been destiny in a duel… he would have had bad luck then only. Not my fault when he’s miserable with the pistol.”  
“Pretty confident about your shooting skills.”  
“By all the people in this world, you’re the one that should know best about my shooting skills,” he says lowly with a crooked smile. With satisfaction he sees the blush creeping onto her face and it’s not caused by the coldness of the night.

She can’t hide her tiredness anymore. She has no idea where they are or how much time passed by already. It’s still dark and cold and she thinks they are riding for an eternity by now. She tries to hide that she’s napping away every few moments and shrieks immediately awake as soon as she does.  
No matter how hard she tries to hide it, Captain John Graves Simcoe sees it anyway. Ridiculous to try hiding something from him. He can understand her a bit, she is not used to such circumstances. He is used riding through the night and fight and accomplish missions at night. But she usually sleeps peacefully in a comfortable bed at this time. Despite what everyone might think about him, but he was raised and educated to a gentleman. So it’s natural that he brings his horse as close as possible at her. “You’re tired,” he whispers.  
“Wha… what, no, I am awake, I am,” she interrupts herself with a yawn, she covers by hiding half of her face behind the cape.  
“You will fall from your horse and then I have to explain to your father why you are unconscious and have your head cut open.”  
“Are you trying to tell me that it would be better to sit right in front of you for the rest of the ride for the pure safety of myself of course? What a cheap attempt trying to get me into your arms, John. I am used to better of you.”  
“You weren’t that reluctant concerning my embrace the last time we saw each other.”  
“The last time we saw each other, my dear John, I threw apples at you and hit to which you tried to push me into the pond, but your bad luck that I grabbed you and pulled you with me.”  
“To be very exactly the last time I saw you at least was at the harbour. You thought I wouldn’t see you in the mass looking up to the vessel? I saw you. Wanted to give a goodbye?”  
A small huff leaves her lips; her breath condenses in the cold. “I just like big vessels… a family thing, you know… with a father in the Royal Navy you are growing into liking ships…”  
He smirks. “Of course…” He still takes the bridles gently out of her hands.  
“But… well, it seems that, when you saw me, that you were looking out for me?”  
“I was just taking a last look on my home. The harbour always gives a nice view.”  
“Of course… the view.”


	9. It won’t fall down with you being absent for a few days

Despite her words and intentions, Elizabeth barely could hold her eyes open and herself straight upright for the rest of the night. Several times she naps away and would have probably slipped out of the saddle if the Captain wouldn’t have shoved her gently back into a sitting position through the whole night. Maybe they should have taken the cart… No, it would have slowed them down and it’s way too impractical for this territory.  
It was as the sun started to rise again that she was pulled out of her little slumber. Dazed by the sunlight, she woke up with a yawn; blinking and terribly tired she waited that her eyes adjusting again to the brightness. It can’t be that early therefore, that they have winter, but still it’s too early for her personal taste. Without a word she is reached a flask. She takes it with a small ´thank you`. She shudders after drinking a few sips of water. It is so, so cold… Her nose, her ears, even her cheeks feeling numb, her backside too through the riding, and then the cold water running down her throat… Now she’s really awake. She hugs the capes closer around her, trembling. Oh, she still has the one of Major Handsome… poor Major; he must freeze now without his cape… If she’ll get a chance to give it back? Does he have another one? Beautiful men shouldn’t freeze. There aren’t enough beautiful men in this world and they shouldn’t freeze. A trembling breath leaves her and condensates immediately in the freezing morning air of winter. She doesn’t like winter.  
She tries to hide another yawn and looks up as a cape is handed to her. “Aren’t you cold,” she asks with another yawn.  
“Compared to last year, this year’s winter is pretty warm. Also we won’t need long from here. I survived worse than a few hours of coldness.”  
She hesitates shortly, looks a moment longer at him before she takes off the capes she already wears and throwing his over her shoulders. A small sigh escapes her. It is warm; he must have worn it while she was asleep. It feels good. And she remembers the scent, his scent. But there is more mixed to it and she can’t tell what it is. She guesses probably gun powder. She thinks to know that the other smell is gun powder. She puts the other two again on. Immediately she feels warmer. Immediately she feels better. “So, we will be there soon?”  
“One hour at the most.”  
“Thank heaven! I can’t feel my backside anymore… How do you do it every day?”  
One corner of his lips lifts. “Just one hour and you can retreat to your warm and cosy bed.”  
“And you?”  
“If I retreat to your warm and cosy bed?”  
She rolls with her eyes. For heavens sake… “What are you going to do?”  
“We give the horses a short rest and then returning to our post.”  
“Immediately? Aren’t you tired? Aren’t you hungry? You should shave at least, I see stubbles…” Not that she would mind… And in the morning sun, she can now really see how much he changed by his appearance. She likes his hair; it has a nice length and its colour in the sunlight… And together with the green of his uniform… it looks good on him… It really looks nice. She tears her eyes off with a deep breath before she begins to stare. That would be embarrassing…

“You look disappointed.”  
“I have to admit, that I expected more. Does every town here looks so boring?”  
“If you think of Philadelphia as boring than you have clearly never seen Setauket…”  
“Se…tauket? Is that your post?”  
“It gives the word ´boring` a completely new definition.”  
“I guess I have to see it. Then I can say I have been in the most boring town of the whole world.” She really expected more. After all, she read and heard of it, she expected by far more. She expected more life in the streets in the early hours of the morning. Although she’s still a little excited to see where she will stay, the house her father got for the stay. How will it look like, how will her room look like? She is sure they will have a garden, but how big will it be? Is it even a nice garden? She get’s excited as she can finally spot her father in front of one of the houses. She almost jumps in the saddle and waves at him with a big smile on her face. Now she has the feeling of being home somehow, she is relieved. Finally she can rest; finally the journey is over for now. For a moment she is distracted as they came to a halt and she is helped off the horse, as she wanted to place her hands into his but instead he puts his hands onto her waist and simply lifts her off. Shortly she steadies herself with her fingers around his upper arms with having finally a steady ground beneath her feet again. It feels good… A small gaze upwards and she clears her throat, murmuring a little ´thank you` and turning away, playing being busy with taking her hat off. After the long hours in a saddle the first steps are difficult, but they feel damn good at the same time.  
“My dear sweet Lizzie!” The Admiral hugs his daughter tight, placing a kiss on the crown of her hair. “I have you back finally… are you alright? Is everything alright with you? Have they done anything to you?” He places a hand beneath her chin, turning her face and looking for bruises.  
“I am alright Papa, just terribly tired and hungry. They haven’t done anything to me, really. The worst thing they did was binding my hands together; I scratched them you know…”  
Immediately he takes her hands into his, shoving the sleeves higher and checking her wrists before he hugs her close again. “I am so happy to have you here… I am so glad that you’re alright…” He turns with still embracing her. “I don’t know how to thank you, John. You have all my thanks for bringing her back to me.”  
He salutes as his godfather addresses him. “It was an honour to work for you, Sir. And I am glad too that we could free Miss Gwillim at the right time and returning her safe and sound.”  
“Thank you so much, boy… I don’t know what I would do without my little girl.”  
“I am not a little girl, Papa…”  
“Of course not, my darling,” the older one smiles, patting softly her cheek, “You can go inside, Mary-Ann is already waiting. She will bring you to your room. A nice breakfast is waiting too already.”  
She throws a short glance over at her saviour. “Well, Papa… you must know that John fought very brave,” she says while she brushes her locks to the front over her shoulder.  
He smirks with observing her. He knows that gesture, when she plays with her hair to draw his attention. Strange that it still works… Soft curls in the colour that would put chestnuts into shame. When she twirls a strand around her finger, looking over to him with the tired look on her face that still makes her looking cute…  
“He really fought hard to get me out of the rebel’s hands and didn’t spare any effort to get me here. Don’t you think we should at least grant him a nice decent rest? His men too of course. I mean, we didn’t make any pause, we were riding through the night and shouldn’t you grant at least my saviour a room to rest and a warm decent meal?”  
“It was no effort at all, Sir.”  
“No, Lizzie is right. That’s the least thing I could do. You’ll stay here and take a rest, the house has enough rooms. In the middle of the town in a big tavern, your men can have rooms there.”  
“The other half of them will arrive through the day with your chests, Sir.”  
“There is enough space, don’t worry. I’ll pay for it, no problem; I’ll give my servant with them. Samuel! Samuel, you accompany these men to the Black Hog, make sure they get rooms and a meal and take care that the horses are well supplied too.” He hands his servant a leather purse. “Tell McKenzie that Admiral Graves sends you with these orders. He has enough rooms; they should all find a place there.”  
“Yes Sir.”  
He calls for another servant to take care for the horse of his godson. “And now we should go inside. You must be frozen already.”  
“It really made no effort, Sir.”  
“Rubbish! You’ll come inside now and you’ll get a room and a meal, no matter if you want to or not. You can’t ride back right now again to Setauket and it won’t fall down with you being absent for a few days.”  
“Thank you, Sir, for your hospitality.”  
“I have to thank you, boy, for bringing my daughter back.”  
She hooks her arm with her father as they go up to the entrance of the house. She looks over her shoulder, looking at him with a coquettish smile.


	10. Did they keep you in a tailor shop?

He really forgot how cunning she can be. A trait in her personality, he always was impressed by. She always knew how to get what she wanted. Now that his godfather offered him a stay it would be rude to deny it. He has no chance then to accept. He can’t be impolite to his godfather. Only because she brought her father to offer it to him. Out of pure kindness? The smile she gave him over her shoulder says something different. Not out of pure kindness, not only because she wants to refresh an old friendship.  
“I would say a tea first would do good to warm you two up,” says the Admiral while helping his ward out of the capes. “My sweet child, did they keep you in a tailor shop?”  
“No, Papa,” she giggles, “but one of the Continentals was pretty nice and gave me his cape to keep warm. A charming young Major, you would like him actually. And this here is Johns. As I said, he fought bravely and did everything to keep me warm.”  
“Not everything,” he ads with a smile that boasts with self-confidence, making her look at him again.  
“Well, everything in that situation possible.”  
With raised eyebrows, he crooks his head aside.  
“I would like to refresh myself and change first before tea, Papa. I am wearing this for two days now! Horrible!”  
“Of course, my dear, the tea will be brought up into your room.”  
“Oh no, I would like to take it with you, anyways I am too thrilled now to sleep and there is so much to tell you! Imagine the shock as they stopped the carriage and they dragged me out! And as they brought me into their camp and then the Major who was sent by the General to interrogate me if I would know anything… they really believed me I had no clue, what for fools… and then our dear, brave John, who came to my rescue… fighting the blue coated Major one o one…”  
They both know it was everything else than this glorious how she describes it. He just pointed his pistol a Tallmadge’s head and then he fled like a rabbit on a run.  
“I am eager to hear everything, my dear. But for now go and refresh yourself. I’ll take John with me to the dining room in that time. Mary-Ann will show you the way.”

“I am so glad that you’re back and alright, mistress.”  
“Just imagine how glad I am, Mary-Ann.”  
“I felt so terrible; I have been so worried as they hijacked your carriage, mistress. Again and again I told myself I should have stayed with you…”  
“It’s alright, everything went out well.” With a kind smile Elizabeth places a hand on her maid's arm. “I am back and healthy, no more worries. All I want now is a good meal and a hot bath. I am frozen to the bones.”  
“I took the liberty to prepare already a bath, mistress, and keeping it warm.”  
“You’re an angel, Mary-Ann!”  
Her maid smiles shyly while she helps her mistress out of the dress, getting rid of the stays and the chemise. It knocks at the door while the lady steps into the tub, sighing in pleasure by the warm water. Her maid returns with a plate of food that has been brought up for her mistress, placing it on a small table next to the tub.  
“Oh thank god, I am so hungry! You have no idea how disgusting the food in that camp was, Mary-Ann, you could hardly call it food. Hmm… Pudding, father really knows what I like,” Elizabeth murmurs with her mouth full of that delicious piece of food.  
“You also brought Mister Simcoe with you, Mistress?” Mary-Ann goes precisely through the chests of her mistress and takes out her favoured dress and everything else fitting to it.  
“I knew he would be somewhere here, father told me so, but I was quite a bit shocked to see him actually face to face.”  
“So shocked that you made your father offering him a stay here?”  
She looks up from the second pudding she eats by now and watching her maid preparing her dress and shoes. The stockings, stay and petticoat… “What?”  
“I mean… five years have passed, sure he saved you from those terrible rebels and as far as I can judge he grew well but…”  
“Mary-Ann…”  
“I just mean, you have a past together and by now he grew to a man, you, mistress, grew into a woman and…”  
“Mary-Ann.”  
“All I am saying is, mistress that you shouldn’t act head over heels and you can’t continue where you stopped years ago. It won’t work and I wouldn’t like to see you heartbroken.”  
“Thank you, Mary-Ann, but I know very well what I am doing. And what do you mean with heartbroken? Me because of him? Pft.. If he implies anything by me just being kind then he’s a fool. We were friends and friends are kind to each other. And it would be really cruel to send them off right away again after a whole night on the back of horses… I finally start to feel my own back again…”

“Sit down, boy. Make yourself at home. James, prepare the guest room on the first floor, the second one to the right and make sure that the saddlebags are brought up to it. Catherine, a nice breakfast for our Captain, please. How about a drink?”  
“Thank you, Sir.” He takes a seat at the table after giving said James his hat together with his bayonet belt and his pistols. He has indeed table manners, no matter what some might think. With a smile and a nod, he takes the glass the Admiral reaches him before he sits down on the opposite.  
“I am very thankful and relieved that you brought her back, boy. I can finally sleep now again. I imagined the worst what they might do with her.”  
“Luckily we could free her to the right time, Sir.”  
“I know I could trust you with this. I knew you would be the right man.”  
“Thank you for your trust, Sir,” he smiles and taking a sip from the glass, putting it aside as a plate is placed in front of him. Only now he is reminded of how empty his stomach actually is, how long ago it was that he had a proper meal. Thankfully, his stomach doesn’t growl by the sheer smell of it, that would be embarrassing.  
“You said the other half of your men would come later?”  
“With your belongings that have been with Lady Elizabeth, Sir, yes.”  
“Wonderful! I wonder why you haven’t been promoted to Major already by now.”  
Maybe because he tends to shoot and stab people without warning, maybe because he tried to kill a Major, maybe because he poisoned a Major’s horse… There are enough reasons, he thinks while taking the first bites. “Maybe because of some inconvenient methods.”  
The older one grumbles. “Rubbish. This is war. There is no gentlemanly way to lead a war,” he says while leaning back,”Those who stay gentlemen in a war are either cowards or fools. Should I tell you how many harbours we smashed down and blew up to cut off their supplies to hunger them out? Should I tell you about the Seven Years´ War and Quiberon Bay? There is nothing gentlemanly about killing men. But this is war and it has to be done. Someone always has to do it. And you’re just one of them. A man of action. Every war needs those men, even when the high commanders won’t admit it. So don’t worry about your promotion, boy. You will have it this year. Actually it’s a perfect time that you’re here now. I’ve invited a few for tomorrow. If you stay I can introduce you. The saviour of my daughter, fighting her out of the rebels’ hands, sounds impressive.”  
He looks up from his plate. Somehow he gets the feeling, and does not get rid of it, that he planned this right from the moment he entered his office. He finishes his plate and taking the napkin, slowly and carefully dabs his lips. “It was long ago since I had a fun night,” he smiles.


	11. Why marry a prince when you can keep a dragon

“What for a splendid idea!” Elizabeth appears in the doorframe, refreshed and changed. “You have no idea how boring it was on that ship for weeks and you can’t name the dinners at the Captains cabin a fun night. Well, maybe his wife had fun nights…”  
He turns half in the chair to look over where her voice comes from. He hides his surprise behind his usual neutral façade but still his eyes following her as she walks around the table to take a seat next to her father. A light blush on her cheeks, a smirk on her lips, a glistening in her eyes. She looks indeed… refreshed, better now than earlier in the night. He’s aware of the green colour of her dress and the bow in her hair that holds it together in the back. Both charming the chestnut curls of hers. She always wore her hair like that when she was casual. Knowing pretty well the witchcraft behind beautiful long hair. A little Salome.  
“My dear, it’s a party where no one is accompanied by their wives. You will bore yourself.”  
“Quite the contrary, Papa. Imagine all the attention I will have as the only beautiful thing those friends of yours have seen in a long time. And I’ve spent weeks on a ship, nothing in behaviour and speech can shock me now, Papa… And who can tell the story of my rescue by our brave John better than I?” She grins over to him as she feels his gaze lingering upon her, meeting his eyes.  
“But don’t complain then when you are bored. It’s all going to be about politics and military, darling.”  
“Not when I am around, Papa,” she grins.  
He sighs, “But I don’t want to hear any complaints when this will not be the case.  
“Oh, don’t worry. I am pretty sure our dear John, the gentleman he is, would gladly entertain me.”  
“It will be my pleasure.” Not for a single moment he breaks his gaze from her and the mischief that speaks from every fibre of her eyes and her smirk. Only as the tea is served, he turns his eyes away from her.  
She claps her hands as she is served a hot chocolate. She got very fond of hot chocolate in the last years. First it’s delicious and second it’s warm and at home the cook always puts an extra shot cream into it for her. If her mother wouldn’t have ordered she that she only gets at the most two cups of it she would drink it the whole day. But luckily Papa doesn’t know about Mamas order, she thinks. And that’s also the reason why she ate more clotted cream than scones right now.  
“My dear… it’s called clotted cream on scones. Not clotted cream on clotted cream. And didn’t you just have a sweet breakfast?”  
He smirks as she looks caught. At least that hasn’t changed about her. He remembers her eating once so much cream that she got a slight greenish taint in her face.  
“Papa… I’ve spent weeks on a ship. I had to live without so many delicious things for far too long. And this here…” She dips one finger into the cream and puts it between her lips. “is one of the bests I’ve ever tasted. Taste it and tell me you couldn’t eat it in a whole.”  
“I have to agree with Miss Gwillim… it’s quite a delicious cream,” he ads after mirroring her gesture.  
She repeats it once more, putting the finger with the cream between her lips and slowly withdrawing it. “I know, right,” she smirks.  
Now he really has to take a deep breath and can’t take off his eyes from her, from the smirk on her rosy lips. If they still taste this sweet like he remembers?  
One glance at his hand and she’s satisfied to see the nervous gesture of his. The index finger tipping against the cup constantly.  
The sigh of her father breaks the moment. “Should I remember you how you got sick by eating so much of it?”  
“I can control myself, Papa. Really. It happened once. It won’t happen twice. I’ve learned my lesson…”  
“I am not this sure with you and sweet things… you always had a sweet tooth, darling. But tell me now about the incredible, dangerous, and the adventurous rescue of yours, my dear.” Her father smiles. He knows she tends to exaggerate things. Making her stories looking like big adventures she went through. Maybe they shouldn’t have told her so much tales as a child. She never understood the princesses who wanted to get away from the dragon and instead riding off with the prince. She would rather always dismiss the prince and riding off with the dragon. Why marry a prince when you can keep a dragon as pet and burn everything to ashes to get what you want, she once said.  
“Oh, you should have seen it, Papa! It was night, deep dark night! They thought they would be an easy target during day and the darkness of the night would give enough shelter. Well, obviously not, otherwise I wouldn’t be here now. Papa, it was so scary as suddenly the horses stopped and were bulking and no one could see why! It turned out to be a snake, ugh… But I was really scared as suddenly shots were fired and the men simply dropped dead! Imagine that father, the actual really nice Major holds a pistol against my head! A pistol, against my head! And then imagine just how surprised I was as I saw who came to my rescue.”


	12. Only with the best intentions

Now sated and after a quick wash and a shave he feels refreshed and like a human again. Still the tiredness crawls through his bones, but sleep can wait. Once more his mind wanders back to Elizabeth. Little Lizzie… well, not so little anymore, he thinks, but he still hasn’t figured out what for threads she spins in her mind. Clearly she hasn’t forgot a single bit about their past. Does she want to renew it? Is she teasing him? Is she playing him? Or is it just who she became in the last years? A coquettish little minx that jinx everyone around her in a radius of one mile? Well, she was pretty coquettish with the Tallmadge boy he was told… No. It was only for her own advantage. She always used the things she has by nature to get advantages and what she wants. A man who falls for his female prisoner’s charms is more likely to treat her well than the woman he thinks of being a witch. He rubs his eyes. He is indeed tired. With a clear mind he wouldn’t make so many thoughts on his own about her and her intentions. It’s in the past, they were young and headless and desperate. She was about to be married off in winter, he left after summer and sailed across the seas to fight Continentals, unknowing if he would ever come back. He suddenly realized then that he was jealous of a man neither of them knew. It was ordinary that he spent the summer with her, to see her through the whole summer, sometimes also on Christmas and New Years Eve, to troll her and being trolled by her, laughing together, spending time together, annoying each other and to be simply so close. She belonged to his family. He belonged to hers. And all this should end suddenly. They wouldn’t be able to spend the whole summer together, to go on a ride together, to go on a picnic together and not to think about even swimming in the near lake. It would be scandalous and inappropriate with her being married.  
And she was mad and angry at her father for promising her, without asking her, without her permission, to a total stranger. She was disgusted that he would be much older than her. She was disgusted by the thought to lie with that man. Just out of anger and the thirst for revenge she suggested the brief little affair. Revenge on her father, revenge on the unknowing Captain, just simple revenge for being born in such unfair circumstances of her time. That man she should marry shouldn’t be her first one, she said it. She wants it to be him, someone she knows and she trusts, the thought to share it with a stranger scared her. And he shouldn’t have the privilege to be her first one. So they jumped in head over heels. Back then he would have married her in an instance, just so she wouldn’t have to be married off to a stranger. But he knows why her father chose a Captain of the Royal Navy over his godson who had no title at all and would make her probably to a widow soon. He would have maybe done the same in his situation. Only with the best intentions.  
Oh, they both were so desperate… Desperation screamed loudly from every shared kiss, from every entwining of the fingers, from every finger tangled in the other one's hair, from every sigh and moan. With every brief touch, every secret glance… it only lasted one summer, but it was the best summer of his life so far.

Elizabeth is happy about the rooms she has been given. Her father really knows what she likes and prefers. She has a wonderful view onto the garden on the backside of her parlour and bed chamber. After a little nap, she feels regained enough to sit down by the big windows in front of her easel with her paint box full of watercolours. She thanks her maid with a smile as she brings her a glass of water. She always loved it to paint with these. It always held more fun for her that stitching for example. But painting always was like magic. The brush was her wand and the colours were the spells she would ban onto the paper. She knows she not the best. She won’t be a Raphael or Da Vinci, she lacks in technique very hard. Every great master of art would scold her. But she is proud to say that her landscape paintings were always admired. And landscapes stay still, they are easier for her. Humans are too complicated to paint.  
She can also completely lose herself in her thoughts while she does her magic on the paper. She thinks about how the life will be here, if it will be boring or exciting. Will they stay here? Or moving forward the further the army conquers this land? She doesn’t recognise how her thoughts are drifting off, wandering away to the man three rooms away from her. Five years are a long time, so much happened and changed through five years. Somehow she still knows him, but on the other hand, she knows nothing at all about him and his life, not anymore. His look changed, for the better. He made his way up in the army, in the war; the experience probably changed him too. For sure it did. He kept his sarcasm and irony, the way how he rolls his eyes is still he same, how he verbally teases her is still the same too. She thinks of it as funny that he also kept his nervous habit with the finger. But she only knows what her father wrote and told her. She tried to write him once in a while. Never did he reply. She was angry. Mad. Disappointed and then sad. She thought she would mean something to him. It felt like she would mean something to him. It felt good. It felt right. She never regretted it. How can she regret something that felt so good and right? But then she had to realize that men are all the same. Out of sight, out of mind. Long absent, soon forgotten. Well, obviously not completely forgotten, he still recognised her, she still made him nervous at the table a few hours ago. But was it really because of her? She saw no ring on any of his fingers… but that has nothing to mean with men. A simple band around a finger means nothing to them. She feels a knot tightening in her belly by the thought there might be someone. It’s stupid, she knows, but the knot is still there with that thought.  
She shakes her head and concentrates again on her work. The leafless trees and the remaining snow on the branches and the ground, the bushes, the dead flower beds that will carry colourful flowers in spring again. Everything is so pale and quite, so calm, like dead. But there is still life beneath the ground that waits for the first rays of sun in spring to grow again. Yes, nicer thoughts, calmer thoughts. Better thoughts than silly knots of jealousy. Fine lines she makes with the brush, how the intensity of the colours changes with every drop of water, with every further line. Little drops of green, pale and greyish, just like the brown. Covered with more white and grey…


	13. Almost a marriage

She looks up in surprise as Mary-Ann announced a guest for her. She frowns. She knows no one here, what for a guest she does not await, should it be? Only out of curiosity, she nods at her made to bring the guest in and not dismissing him or her. She wipes and dries the brush on a towel, wipes her hands as she rises from her place, leaving the towel with her colour box. Shortly she smoothes her skirts before the door to her parlour opens again. Her curiosity about the guest fails immediately as she sees said guest. “Since when do you announce yourself as a guest?” Disappointed, she sat down again at her easel.  
“I wonder who else you might have expected.” Slowly he steps in, taking a chair by its backrest and placing it closer to her before he sits down. “Washington’s dashing Major maybe?”  
“Don’t be ridiculous…” She pulls a face.  
“Your precious colours,” he nods at the box of hers. “You still draw and paint?”  
“What does it look like?... Yes, I do. I never stopped.” She slapped his hand with the brush in her fingers as he simply grabbed the finish sheets.  
Unimpressed by that he takes the finished drawings anyway and looks at these. “Lovely… you have an eye for details and colours.”  
“Put them back, they’re not completely dried, you’re going to ruin them.”  
“You’ve got better through the years,” he says as he puts the sheets back where he took them.  
“I know.”  
His gaze turns towards her. “Still only landscapes?”  
“John, why are you here? For sure not to talk with me about my drawing skills.” Already she started to sketch on the next piece of paper.  
“I could ask you the same. Why am I here? Why did you make your father inviting me for at least three days? You know very well how incredibly rude it would be if I would deny that invitation, that I can’t say no to an invitation of your father.”  
She shrugs with her shoulders. “You saved me after all… the least I could do to thank you… having a rest for a few days…”  
“Really? Only because you wanted to be nice?”  
“Yes… I can be that from time to time…”  
A smirk spreads over his face with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “I didn’t know that. I never saw the nice side of you. I thought to be naughty was your nature.”  
Her fingers are stopping with the brush; she throws a glance at him and hesitates shortly. “Hmm… what your Lady might say to see you talking to me like that.”  
The smirk stays, something knowingly sneaks into it. “There is no Lady, my dear, I can assure you that.”  
Her eyes are lingering a moment longer on him before she turns to her work again. The little knot in her belly slowly dissolves into nothing, but she tries to keep her face straight, tries to not let him see and know how relieved she actually is to hear that. Not smiling, she tells herself again and again. Do not smile. “Oh, really? I thought you wouldn’t spare any chance…”  
“I am here to fight a war, my dear Lizzie. Not finding true love,” he smiles. “Though I don’t mind when it should happen.”  
“I didn’t know you would believe in true love.”  
“Don’t you?”  
“I am a woman, John; we don’t have the privilege of love. We are allowed to read and swoon about it, to talk silly about it and dream but never should we ever dare to think we could marry for love.”  
“I remember a time where you have been talking all day about love. Being loves, to be in love, love letters, love poems, you couldn’t have enough of love. What happened?”  
“Almost a marriage.”  
Before they could continue the door opens and her maid appears in it. “Mistress, Sir, there is someone downstairs asking for you, Sir. He says his name is Akinbode and he’s one of your men.”  
“Akinbode, wonderful!” He rises up with a grin and putting the chair back where it belonged. “If you excuse me, my dear? We can continue later our nice little chat.” He does a little bow before he takes his leave.  
“Who, Mary-Ann?” Silently her maid waves at her to follow. Together they step onto the gallery, looking down onto the foyer.

“Wonderful. This is just wonderful! Everything is here! I really couldn’t ask a better one for this.”  
“I told you Sir, I’ve entrusted men with it of whom I know they won’t disappoint.”  
“Wonderful. I have my daughter and my writings back, I really owe you something, boy.”  
“It was nothing, Sir, really.”  
“And you, my man, I have to thank you too, well done.”  
“It was a pleasure, Sir.”  
“I can’t say in word how thankful I am. I would welcome you too, Mister Akinbode, on my small party tomorrow. My guest for sure would like to hear the whole story of the returning of my belongings and my daughter.”  
He could feel the gaze lingering upon him, eyes staring at him. He turns slightly, looking up over his shoulder and grins. A small gesture with his right hand serves as a waving. With satisfaction he sees her twisting her mouth once and suddenly turning away. He could chuckle. Sweet little Lizzie. It will be fun tomorrow evening, for sure.


	14. Men use to say all sorts of things

Mary-Ann sighs as she sees the latest sketch of her mistress while bringing fresh water for her colours. “My Lady…”  
“I am not throwing myself head over heels into this, Mary-Ann! It’s just practice… I am just practicing; it has to mean nothing, alright? I will be allowed to practice, right?”  
“My Lady… you never draw people.”  
“So it should be time by now to practice, right?”  
“Mistress… five years… Never came a reply to your letters. Never came one of his own.”  
“I know that very well, Mary-Ann, you don’t need to remind me of that.”  
“And?”  
She sighs and puts the brush down. “I can’t help myself… I still like him. Despite what for an idiot he can be…” Another sigh. “It was all well the last years, as long as I haven’t seen him… but as I saw him then there, standing with drawn pistol, in full uniform, to rescue me, to get me out of the Continentals hands… I know he was for sure send by father but… he agreed, right? He agreed to come to my help…”  
Mary-Ann smiles softly with the next sigh of her mistress.  
“Everything came up again in my mind. Everything. And as we talked, as he gave me his cape; I sill remembered his scent, to feel his hands again as he helped me off the horse, firm and gentle at the same time, just like back then. I remembered everything again. And that Idiot knows it… I know it’s stupid, Mary-Ann. I know it very well. He will probably forget me again as soon as he leaves… And I know you want to tell me that I shouldn’t lay any hopes into any smile of his. I know it’s stupid of me and I hate myself already now for it. But I can’t help myself. I am happy that he stays here. I am happy to see him. It feels nice to feel his gaze upon me. To have his attention once more, when he talks to me, when he hints that he hasn’t forgotten anything what was between us. It makes me feeling funny.”  
“Is it worth it, the funny feeling?”  
“It feels good. And yes… it is worth it for me. I would rather like to have a hundred affair with him than being married for a year to someone I don’t even know. I wouldn’t mind to renew it.” She shrugs with her shoulders. “I know him. I know what he can do; I know how he used to treat me, how…” She sighs as she remembers those weeks, how gentle and passionate at the same time he was, as she remembered his kisses and the feeling of his fingers wandering over her skin… “I want to look incredible for dinner today and irresistible tomorrow.”  
“For the Captain? Mistress, I’ve heard your conversation, I know he said there would be none but a man can say a lot of things through the whole day and not everything he says needs to be true.”  
“I don’t know why he should lie to me.”  
“Men use to say all sorts of things to get what they want. They know what to say and how to charm a lady. Only because you know him and share a past with him doesn’t mean you should trust him of having pure intentions with you.”  
“I don’t want him to do anything pure with me,” she smirks and laughs lowly at the shocked face of her maid. “I thought you would know that, Mary-Ann,” she grins, picking out new colours from her box. “I want to wear the emerald dress for dinner today. I am not sure for tomorrow… Scarlet or Navy blue? What do you think?”  
“Depends… on your intentions, mistress.”  
“Scarlet,” she says after a moment the thought about it. “I want the scarlet one for tomorrow. Red always works… We will see how jealous he can get.”  
“Mistress…”  
“If he will be jealous when I ignore him and my whole attention lies on someone else then he still will have feelings for me, right? So let’s see how jealous I can make him.”


	15. Stupid John

With a smirk over her whole face, she goes down to the dining room in the evening as it is about time for dinner. She wanted to look astonishing, but also casual at the same time, as if she does not give much effort into her look. She thinks she succeeded and likes it as she takes a look at her reflection in the mirror. The evening will be for sure fun. At least she thinks so until she steps into the dining room. Her father sits alone at the table that is only laid for two, letters next to his plate, letters in his hands, looking up as she enters.  
“Good evening, my dear,” he smiles.  
“Where is John?”  
“Oh, he had to leave, had to meet one of his superiors. He will return later.”  
Her moods sinks immediately as she goes over to her seat a servant draws back for her and sits down. This evening is no fun at all. She throws the napkin more or less onto the table and also treats the silverware not gently. She had a nice and fun evening in mind and now everything is ruined. Stupid John. Well, then she really is going to wear that scarlet gown tomorrow evening. After all, revenge is sweet. Without big appetite, she pokes the partridge on her plate with the fork. All her good mood left her.  
“Is something wrong my dear? I asked the cook to prepare your favourite meal for today; usually it doesn’t even have a chance to get cold on your plate. Is something bothering you? Is it not after your taste? I’ll tell the cook to work on that recipe.”  
“Oh no, father, it’s alright!” To proof her words she takes a bite. “I guess I am just still tired and so much happened in the last days… I am just exhausted, father.” He doesn’t need to know that she’s mad at John for not being here and ruining her evening with his absence.  
“Understandable, my dear. It does not happen every day, luckily, that you’ve been kidnapped. Would you like to have pudding now? Or drinking a last tea with me for today before leaving for the night?”  
“A tea would be nice, father.”  
A gesture of his hand and the dishes are removed from the table.  
“When I think about it… could I have a hot chocolate?”  
He leans over, putting his hand onto hers with a kind smile. “My dear… I fear soon a whole armada would need to import chocolate only for you by how much you drink of it. A tea now. And a hot chocolate when you go to bed.”  
The grin on her face tells him that she’s satisfied with the compromise.  
“Tell me my dear, did you have a nice chat with John earlier? You have a lot to tell each other I guess.”  
“Oh, not that much, father… What is there to say? I am a woman,” she shrugs with her shoulders. “And he’s a soldier. His life is for sure filled with more danger, but our lives are pretty much similar. Every day the same…”  
“Well, I am sure now you’ll have the chance to see each other again on a regular basis.”  
“Not that regular I guess. I mean… he still has duties, right? And aren’t there some rich daughters or ladies you want to introduce to me? I will be busy for sure being constantly invited to tea and chatting about what colours are fashionable this spring and what flowers are fitting the best to the wallpaper in the entrance hall.”  
“You make it sound like it is the worst that can happen to you.”  
“Let’s be honest, father, it is a cage. Not golden, but at least silver. Women give birth to men. No man would be able to walk this world without a woman. And yet they call themselves the highest creation of god and ban us from all the fun stuff and blame us for their sins. I know how to handle a dagger. You taught me how to load a pistol. I’ve read your works and those you kept in the library. Theoretically I can control and command an armada… Theoretically, I could wage a war on the sea. But I am only allowed to talk about the latest fashion at the court and how lovely the spring looks this year.”  
“But we don’t even have spring by now.”  
Both turning around to the voice that comes from the door and she wonders how long he was standing there and listening and if he thinks too, that her thoughts are too modern and too French and not ladylike. Her eyes are following the Captain as he walks over to the table and taking a seat next to her.  
“But it’s a mild winter this year. But also… everything is dead in winter so you won’t have much to talk about it either.”  
“Must have been a nice night out. I wonder what you had to talk with your superior officer that needed the support of alcoholic beverage. You’re cheeks are red, John. They always are when you drink.”  
He suppresses the urge to lift his hand to his cheeks to check if they really feel warm. Somehow he feels caught by her stern look and the word ´always`. Is it that obvious? “It was nice indeed. And yours rather not judged by your talk.”  
“Oh, bien au contraire. It was as nice as it could be, I didn’t have to see your face, you know.”  
“May I remind you…”  
“You may not.”  
“Excuse me?”  
“I excuse you.”  
“What?!”  
The Admiral hides his grin behind his hand by looking at the two, trying to suppress the grin and turning his face away. It feels like in the old days seeing and hearing them arguing. How could he ever think someone else would fit better to her than his godson? Luckily the tea is served right now.  
“You wanted me to excuse you, so I did, graciously like I am.”  
“Graciously? I doubt you even know the meaning of this.”  
“And I doubt…”  
“Children, the tea is getting cold.” He is glad that they still listen when he calls them children. Why arguing? Even when she argues with him, she still has his attention and he still talks to her. Maybe she’s not sure what he’ll think about her speech she just gave. She always tends to argue when she’s unsure. “Mary-Ann told me you already started with your drawings again, my dear?”  
Elizabeth lifts the cup to her lips, taking a sip and placing it down again, licking her lips once. “Yes. The view from my windows onto the garden is nice. Thank you for giving me these rooms.”  
“I knew you would like them,” her father smiles. “And yours, John?”  
“I am very thankful, Sir. The rooms are than enough for these days, they are very pleasingly.”  
“Good to know. I hope you know you’ll stay also here on my promotion ceremony. There will be no way that you’ll stay outside.”  
“May the Lord help us,” murmurs Elizabeth, taking another sip from her tea.  
“The Lord should have rather giving you more good manners. A monastery would have done you good.”  
“Dito.”


	16. I was hit by bullets and knives, yet you are the only one who ever beat me with a basket full of apples

“Most women won’t complain about their situation. They’re happy with such an easy life.”  
“What was the name of the vessel you arrived on here?”  
“Judith, when I remember correctly.”  
“And what’s the name of the ship you serve on, father?”  
“Queen Ann.”  
“I am sure, John, that you have canons in Setauket, right? What are their names?”  
“They wrote Bonnie and Jenny on these.”  
“Your weapons and guns are having female pronouns, you call them ´she` and `her`. Your vessels of war are wearing the names of women. You are so amazed by your canons that you give them female names. Men are calling us black widows, vipers and wild cats, fighting fierce like lions. All deadly. And yet men reduce us to a life of stitching and bearing children. Why when we are obviously deadly and mighty that we are name givers to powerful weapons? I could poison your tea and you wouldn’t even recognise it.”  
“And even if, I would still drink it. I would take every cup of hemlock from your hands.”  
“It is always the Queen, who is willing to commit murder, casting evil spells, poisonous apples and combs, hexed spinning wheels, while the weak hunter isn’t able to kill, while the Prince isn’t able to get through the thorns on his own, while the King dies. It is the Prince that is hexed into a beast because he was vain and arrogant. It is the Princess that defeats the mean Stepmother, the evil Queen, the monster and the terrible curse. Yet you men call us weak and irresponsible, silly. You just said it; you would let me poisoning you. So why are we only allowed to bear your children and look decent at your sides? Where would England be now when not Elizabeth I. would have sat on the throne and stopping the Spanish Armada? For sure not where we are now with Henry VIII… Boudicca, Mary of Scots, Cleopatra, Caterina de Medici, Eleanor of Aquitaine. The Habsburg Empire is ruled by a woman. The Russian Empire is ruled by a woman. And England?”  
“Ruled by an insane man.”  
“My dear,” the Admiral rises his voice, “on one hand, I am sorry that there is no place in politics for you. You would do good in politics, you would do great speeches. On the other hand, I am glad because they are all corrupted pigs.”  
“Oh father,” she smirks, “please don’t insult the pigs. They are very decent animals. They don’t deserve to be compared with politicians.”

“You would drink every cup of hemlock I would give you?”  
He smirks and stops in an instant on the staircase with his hand resting onto the banister. Only as his smirk has vanished, he turns around. “I would take everything from your delicate hands. No matter how poisonous it might be.”  
“You would trust me that I wouldn’t poison you or would you gladly die from my hands?”  
“Either way it would be a pleasure.” His eyes are locked with hers as he slowly takes the few stairs down again.  
“Are you telling that every Lady that pleases your eyes?”  
“Not every one.”  
“So… does that mean that I am special to you?” As he stops it is her who starts to walk small circles around him.  
“I was hit by bullets and knives, yet you are the only one who ever beat me with a basket full of apples. I would call that special.”  
Shortly she pulls a face. That story will cling to her for all eternity and he’ll make sure it stays this way. “I am serious, John.”  
“I am serious too. My dear, we circle around each other for the past night and day with implies about our intimidate past and no one of us seems to regret it. Don’t you think we should have a clear talk as adults?”  
She stops in her movement, clenching her fists. “You want a clear talk? Clear talk: I think you are mocking me right now. Mary-Ann still doubts your intentions towards me. You’re a man after all and we know that men are everything else than the personification of all virtues. Who gives me security that you don’t play with me? That you won’t have someone, somewhere? Who says you’re not only around me for advantages because I am the key to my father and my father is the key to your promotion. Don’t look like that, I am not stupid. Five years and you never replied to a single letter of mine, never came one of your own… I lost hope and gave up that I will ever receive one. You had your fun with me, good, I’ve learned my lesson of life and I won’t make the same mistake again.” No matter how good that mistake felt.  
The rolling of his eyes is accompanied by a tensing of his jaw and his hands resting on his hip. “I thought you would be married by the time your first letter arrived. Guess how appropriate it would have been to write a married woman? Also, I could spare to read about your happily ever after life.”  
“Happily ever after? John! You know why I did what I did. Do you really think a white gown and a house would have changed my mind?”  
“You would have been secured for the rest of your life… I didn’t want to read about you living at someone else’s side and having his children.”  
“That was your only worry? Happily ever after if you like being a slave because that’s what married women are, John. Nothing else than slaves, only with better clothes and food.”  
“I’ve thought you wouldn’t have changed but you did. Where do you have those thoughts from?”  
“Are they too modern for you? I can read and think. Would you also beat me how Captain Wentworth promised it?”  
“I-No! Li…”  
She takes a step back as he makes one at her. “Are you thinking of my kind as slaves too?”  
“You are a free woman, Elizabeth, and always have been.”  
“Then how can it be that there will be always a man who will claim his right over me? I am not free. I am first my fathers… and someday my husbands… the former slaves got more freedom than one of my kind…”  
He can’t tell her she’s wrong because she isn’t. It’s true what she says. A woman will always depend on her male guardian, may it be father, brother, uncle or husband. A wrong look, a wrong word, a wrong gesture and a woman will bring her family shame and her husband a bad reputation. A wrong look and it’s enough to call her a whore. A woman is blamed for the original sin, a woman is blamed when a king has no heir, a woman is blamed if the heir is sick or dead. “I would never beat you, you know that. I feel insulted that you think of me that low. You know me better.”  
She turns her gaze away. “I am sorry… I got carried away…”  
“If someone would beat one that it would be you beating me with whatever you have in your hands in that moment. I trust you to be even able to bruise me with a pillow.”  
She does not want to but a smile sneaks up on her lips. “You know why I threw them at you.”  
“I never complained. All I did was saying that they really hurt.”  
“Make up your mind, John… I am sure I can find somewhere a few apples otherwise. I am happy to see you, but I won’t be fooled. Good night. Until tomorrow evening.”  
“Only in the evening?”  
“Do you have any idea how much time we need to look pleasingly in your eyes while you need five minutes at the most to get dressed?”  
“Alright, then until the evening,” he smirks, looking after her as she takes the stairs upwards. Strange that it feels like it was yesterday that they wished each other a good night.


	17. Honestly you are confusing me, Miss Gwillim

Elizabeth closes her eyes and sighs as she sinks deeper into the tub with hot water. There is no better way to start a day than with a hot bath. Another sigh slips her as her maid starts to massage the oil into her hair to make it shiny and fresh for the evening. A low grumble leaves her lips as it knocks against the door and the fingers of her maid leaving her hair. “Who is it,” she asks with her eyes still closed.  
A moment of silence before the voice of her maid sounds: “Only the breakfast, mistress.”  
Well, in that case… she sinks deeper into the water. The evening will be splendid, she will look astonishing and his jealousy… she protests with another grumble as the fingers in her hair are getting too firm. “Mary-Ann, I know you don’t support my decision but that’s no reason to massage my hair with all force into my head.”  
“Well, I guess I am a bloody beginner in that matter.”  
She slips away and sits up in one move, turning around and hiding her breasts behind her arms. “John! Yesterday you said it would be inappropriate to write a married woman and now you enter while I am taking a bath!”  
“You did not scream,” he shrugs with his shoulders and earns a splash of water into his face. “Also,” he continues as he takes a towel and dries his face, “I know how you look while taking a bath.”  
“And that’s reason enough to disturb the bath of a Lady?”  
“When it’s about you…”  
“So, you don’t dare to do so with others but I am not worth it that you act like a gentleman?”  
“Do you want me to act like a gentleman?” The answer she owes him makes him smirking.  
“What do you want here, John?”  
“You said I should make up my mind and that’s what I did.”  
“And you need to tell me while I enjoy a hot bath?”  
Mischief lies in his smirk, the forearms resting on the edge of the tub. “At least then you’re in a good mood.”  
She hesitates a moment before she takes her arms away, leaning back with a grin on her lips. Of course she recognises how his gaze wanders down and back up immediately. It satisfies her. “So, you made up your mind?”  
“Yes,” he answers after a deep breath. While he stared at the ceiling for hours lying in bed and only finding sleep late at night. Of course, such an engagement would bring him advantages, but that’s not the reason why she’s walking circles in his mind since he laid eyes on her again. That’s not the reason why she erased the other name instantly with the first smile of hers. That’s not the reason why his heart starts to race and breathing becomes difficult with that little smile of hers. The advantages are not the reason why he wants to hold her and tasting her lips again. And these are surely not the reason why he dislikes the thought that she could promise herself to someone else. They were also not the reason why he spared it to read her letters or why he had to take a deep breath, seeing her bare and wet skin, relaxed in the tub. Her grin tells him that she knows the effect she has on him right in this moment, that she’s teasing him.  
“And… do you want to tell me?”  
“You wanted a clear talk and when I remember correctly you were always fond of being honest.”  
“Honesty is a virtue that became too rare these days.”  
“And honestly you are confusing me, Miss Gwillim.”  
“Should I feel sorry now?”  
“You would never feel sorry for confusing me,” he continues with a smile, “I know you better. No. Your presence here, the news that you haven’t married at all, that you wasted thoughts on me in the past years that you’re mad that I didn’t write back…”  
“I never…”  
“I can read in your eyes that you’re mad, Lizzie. I can read you would like to drown me for being so selfish to ignore your letters.”  
“Not drowning… only holding you underwater until you pass out, maybe… But you thought about me, you couldn’t bring up the courage to read my letters, you were jealous that I could be happy at someone else’s side. Am I right?”  
“You are not wrong.”  
“And when I can manage it to confuse you… Did you come to my rescue for me or because my father asked you?”  
“Both. You know I could never say no when your father asks me for something. But I would have done it without him asking me if I would have known about your kidnapping.”  
“Because you’re an honourable gentleman?”  
“Because of you.”  
“Do I mean so much to you?”  
“Much more.”  
Now it’s her taking a deep breath with the thought that her hopes might not have been false and foolish. “And… now? Where do we start now? Years have been wasted because you weren’t able to open my letters.”  
Slowly a smile spreads over his face as she’s about to argue, as she shows signs of being unsure about their current situation. He stands up, walking around the tub and bending down to her, hands resting left and right on the tub. “Well, we could continue where we ended it,” he breathes. He can smell the herbs and lavender of the oils in the water, revealed by the heat and steam; he can smell the olives and roses in her hair, seeing the blush on her cheeks from the heat… Before he could come even close enough he feels a wetness and pressure against his chest. Looking down, he sees her foot pressing against his chest, keeping him on distance. “Or we could do it the proper way this time,” he grins.  
“I would like to see you try.”  
As she takes her foot away, he takes her hand into his, placing a kiss onto it. “Until the evening then, my dear.”  
“Until the evening then. Unless you can’t control yourself and interrupt me again.” She watches how he turns away with a smile on the face, how he leaves the room. Only as the door is closed a giggle leaves her lips and she slips completely beneath the water, sitting up again, squealing out of joy. He still likes her, he wants to continue what they had, he wants her, she means something to him. She could burst out of joy right now. All that she wished years ago, what she hoped since she saw him again. This is just too wonderful.  
“I guess you want the red gown for tonight more than ever, judged by the visitor and your reaction, mistress?”  
Elizabeth wipes the water from her eyes, nodding at her maid with a wide grin. “Yes, Mary-Ann, more than ever! I want to look my best for tonight! Do your best magic with my hair! I want the rose’s oil and perfume; he always liked that on me!”  
“I ask you again, mistress, to be careful. Your mother would ask the same of you. Don’t be too joyful; don’t put too many hopes into his words. You’re not wearing a ring on your finger, neither of you vowed to be truth. All is in secret again. If something…”  
“I know… I know about the consequences it can have, Mary-Ann, I knew them back then and I haven’t forgotten them. I still know how to prevent those consequences, don’t worry, Mary-Ann. I won’t bring shame over my family.”  
“I am just saying that…”  
“I know what you’re trying to say and it is my business, Mary-Ann. I am thankful that you are worried about me, but I know very well what I am doing or going to do. And now come on, I need to look perfect for tonight.”


	18. Et tu, Brute?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When Elizabeth is playing with the fan: In the last centuries, very popular in the 18th, was something like a fan language. Depending on how you hold and fan the fan you could deliver messages. Putting it onto your lips or gliding it twice through your hand means: Kiss me.  
> Gliding it over your cheek means: I love you.

Since she entered it became harder for him to concentrate on the actual conversations he has with Generals and Admirals his godfather introduces him to. There was no coincidence as she entered and looking directly at him with a smile sweeter than sugar on lips red as blood. Like the Siren with the sailor she’s wandering around in his mind and won’t leave him alone, pulling the rope tighter around him and dragging him below the surface. And she didn’t even have to bewitch him. With every laugh of hers, he turns his head, looking out for her and has a hard time to control his expressions to not pull a face for her laughing at cheap jokes and letting her charm play at some old foolish…  
With a sudden jerk he turns his head and his attention once more towards his godfather as he recognises he’d been addressed several times, murmuring an excuse before he empties his glass in one sip.  
“Is she distracting you,” he asks with a smirk.  
“No.”  
“The correct answer would have been ´who`. You must know, Mister Akinbode, my darling girl always had a magic touch for confusing and distracting our dear John,” grins the Admiral.  
“No, Sir. No one is distracting me,” he answers, shooting his subordinate a glance that makes him swallowing the laughter down. “I was just wondering if this might be General Cornwallis exchanging jokes with Miss Gwillim.”  
“It is indeed our good General but it’s still useless to cover the fact that you weren’t listening at all to what I just said for your eyes were busy and distracting your mind.”  
“I was not distracted!... Sir.” He puts his empty glass aside, trying to gain control over himself again.  
“Support me, Mr. Akinbode. It seemed that his mind was not present as I told him I would introduce him to the General who is currently under the spell of my Elizabeth.”  
“It… seemed so, yes Sir.” Luckily the drink in his glass looks right now very thrilling so that he can avoid the look of his commanding officer.  
“Et tu, Brute? Who needs enemies with friends like yours?”  
“Leave it now, boys. It’s time now, before too much wine has been spilled and my little girl looks as if she’s in need of a gentleman.”  
He rolls his eyes as his godfather pokes him into his side with his elbow. Seriously, he’s a grown man and no boy. Once more the suspicion grows that he has in mind to set the two of them up with each other anyway, since he informed him very subtle that her hand in marriage is still free. Why would he do so otherwise?  
“Ah, my good old friend! I am glad to see and hear that everything went well.”  
“I am still so sorry about your carriage, Charles.”  
“Don’t bother; it’s only a tangible value of no worth compared to one's child.”  
The both men hug each other as the long timed friends they are. “And as I see my darling daughter already entertained you. She tends to overdo things,” the Admiral whispers.  
“Oh father! I don’t! I just told the plain truth.”  
“And she did so passionately, Samuel,” smiles the General, “about all the horrors to be captivated by the rebels and the heroic rescue of hers. And you must be the brave Captain Simcoe the charming Lady told me about so excitedly. I am pleased to meet you.”  
“It is an honour for me, Sir.” He shakes his hand with a bow. “And I am pretty sure that Miss Gwillim made the events looking more dramatic than they were.”  
“Actually I trust more the words of a woman in these than men, young men tend to make themselves look braver than they were. Judged by all I heard I hope you won’t change under the command of your Godfather. We need men like you in the army.”  
“I don’t have in mind to change over to the Royal Navy, Sir.”  
“I am glad to hear that.”  
“Although I still think that Miss Gwillim was too generous in her telling.”  
“Have you not bravely made the continental Major leave and run like a rabbit on the hunt,” she smirks, playing with her fan. “And have you not made sure that I return safely into my father's arms again?”  
He smirks and keeps his eyes resting on her while she places her fan onto her lips, gliding it over her cheek and down her neck. “Yes,” he simply answers, “I did. And would do so again and again.” Not only saving her from rebels' hands.  
“And you lead the Queens Rangers. Your godson, my friend, is the kind of man we need more of in this war. Tell me, Captain, who is your commanding officer, where is your post?”  
“Setauket, Sir. Major André, Sir.”  
“Setauket… the Oyster Major,” both older men chuckle. That Major Hewlett is called amongst them the ´Oyster Major` and is made fun of for sticking so hard at that little costal town is no secret. “Major André… yes, I had a few encounters with him… wise choice of him to name you to the new Captain of the Queens Rangers, I have to admit. I never liked that Rogers guy to be honest.”  
“I am pretty sure that John is the best man for these Rangers. Am I right, Mr. Akinbode? Is our John a better Captain than this Rogers?”  
“Yes, my Lady. Captain Simcoe is the best commanding officer I had the honour to work for, my Lady. If I may be allowed to speak openly…?”  
“Sure, just go ahead,” nods the Admiral.  
“Compared to others is Captain Simcoe the first to treat me with respect since I decided to join the service for the King.” Although sometimes he thinks it would have been better to simply desert. He still has the feeling he would shoot him dead with a single wrong glance despite the fact that the Captain trusts him more than anyone else amongst the Rangers.  
“That’s my boy!” The Admiral beams with pride over his godson. The boy he always treated like his son next to the girl he always treated like his own daughter… He stops a passing servant with a full tray of glasses, handing everyone a glass. “That calls for a toast.”  
“Shouldn’t we rather toast to the Admiral?”  
“There will be time on my ceremony, but now we toast to the young generation, hot blooded and full of motivation!”  
“To the young generation!”  
All are lifting their glasses, taking a sip from these as Elizabeth suddenly starts to fan fresh air at herself. “Oh, it so warm in here… I guess a bit fresh air would do me well. If you would excuse me, gentleman?”  
“All alone, my dear?”  
“Of course I would escort Miss Gwillim if she allows me to accompany her.”  
“Of course I do, John,” she grins, hitting his arm playfully with her fan. “You already escorted me safely once, so I bet you’ll do it also a second time. If you allow so, father.”  
“Yes, of course, I know you’re in good company with him. Don’t stay too long outside; temperatures are freezing at night here.”  
“Only a few moments, father, promised, just a bit of fresh air.” With a kiss on the cheek, she turns away from her father and placing her hand onto the Captain arm he is holding out for her.  
“You told him about me,” he asks in a whisper as they leave to the entry hall, helping her putting a cape around her shoulders.  
“You would have only said you did your duty. You don’t get promoted with only doing your duty. It needs either a lot of death or the skilful praising tongue of a woman.”  
“A skilful tongue you have indeed.”  
She looks up to see the double meaning of his words reflecting in his eyes. “You have no idea,” she smirks.  
He returns her smirk. “So, do you really want to get some fresh air or was it just pretence to leave the party?”  
“For what? To be alone with you? Don’t be ridiculous, John. You are not as irresistible as you think you might be.” And with these words she turns on her heels and strides down the hallway to the back entrance.  
He follows her immediately, slightly irritated at first, but then, she probably only wants to play with him, testing and teasing him. “Well, it sounded different last evening and in the morning.” After her he steps through the door that leads to the backyard, shutting it as he stepped through. “And it also sounds different with the fact that…” Not even he could react fast enough as she suddenly grabs him by his lapel, pulling him closer and cutting off his words by pressing her lips onto his. Astonished at first, or rather surprised by her action, he soon gives in with a grin on his lips. And she said he wouldn’t be able to control himself…


	19. I don’t kiss on the first date

He wants to give in, putting his arms around her and holding her close. Feeling her warmth crawling through the layers of fabric, letting the scent of roses twisting his mind, tasting longer the sweet, soft lips. But he doesn’t even get the chance to drown in all the feelings that are flooding over him with that one kiss. As suddenly as she grabbed him she lets go of him again, taking a step back.  
“I was just curious,” she says. Looking away with red cheeks, not only from the cold.  
“Curious,” he asks a little bit irritated. Taking a deep breath, he busies himself with adjusting his jacket to keep his hands by himself.  
“If it might still work.”  
“What might still work?”  
“Shut you up with a kiss.”  
With a crooked smile he watches after her as she turns away, a slight smirk lifting the corner of her lips. Once more he follows her. He recognises that he’s always following her… always following her around… It had been years ago and not even now it changed.  
Frost and snow are creaking beneath their feet, the only sound in the dark backyard until she lifts her voice again.  
“It still works.”  
“Hm?”  
She smirks, looking over her shoulder at him. “Shutting you up with a simple kiss.”  
He accepts this one defeat and shows her with tenderness in his expression.  
She continues her walk through the backyard, stepping closer at a tree. Its green splendour falling off weeks ago, the branches now deserted. She puts a hand onto it, feeling the cold and rough bark beneath her fingers, gliding slowly over it while encircling the tree. Throwing a glance at him over her shoulder with a coy smile, well aware that he will follow.  
“Something else is still working too.”  
She can hear him closer now, stops and looking around one side of the tree, almost colliding with his face. “And what might that be?” She moves to the other side and he mirrors her again.  
“Talking endlessly until you kiss me.”  
“You call that a kiss? Whom have you kissed all those years that you consider a simple pair of lips pressing onto another one as a kiss?”  
“Do you really want to know?”  
She shrugs with her shoulders. “They can’t be any threat to me when they obviously kiss you so dull that you call that just now a kiss.”  
Oh, playing cool headed and experienced, serene. He grins. “And whom have you kissed in the past years?”  
Her smile widens. “Andrew Harper.”  
He straightens up suddenly, knitting his eyebrows, the expression serious with a sudden. That idiot? That dim-witted, rotten, moronic… He remembers the name too well. He broke his face as they still went to the academy and he got flogged for it. He made an inappropriate comment about her as she and her father were catching him up before summer from the academy. ´Sixteen, sweet age, about time someone shows her how to polish a sword`. Too stupid of him that he was standing right next to him. He wasn’t able to make the exam and had to repeat the whole year. He got 10 lashes because a comrade does not beat up another comrade. It was worth it. She knows about it, he told her as she was taking care of him afterwards. “When? Where?”  
“Curious,” she grins, changing to the other side again. This time he only turns his head, keeping his expression.  
“Meeting him was more an accident,” she shrugs with her shoulders, leaning against the tree, ignoring the coldness for this moment where she has him dangling from the hook. “I was disappointed and mad that you haven’t replied to my letters after half a year. I accompanied mother into the city, going my own ways while she was busy choosing the right fabric for a suit for father. You know how such things go.”  
“No. I don’t.”  
She bites her tongue to not giggle. Short sentenced, always a sign when he’s displeased.  
“Do I have to explain how it goes?”  
He makes a noise of dislike, grumbling and with his breath condensing in the cold air he looks like a mad dragon right now as he turns away.  
“In fact it is your fault, if you would have simply answered me, I wouldn’t have accepted his invitation and wouldn’t have kissed him.” Now it’s her following him.  
“Oh, you poor thing and terrible me. Was I forcing you to kiss such scum…”  
“When it returns your good mood: He felt like a dead fish as he was kissing me. Not even close to being comparable to you.” She almost ran into him as he stops suddenly. Got you, she thought as he slowly throws a glance over his shoulder at her, raising a brow.  
“Like a dead fish you say?”  
“Compared to you he thought he knew what he was doing but didn’t in fact. To be honest, I knew then how much you spoiled me actually.”  
He grins again, turning around to her. “Oh… should I feel pity? Have I ruined you for any other man?”  
She takes a step closer, patting his chest with her fan. “Have I ruined you for any other woman? Saying there is no one, no ring on your finger, me kissing you turns your tongue to lead…”  
Before he could reply with a smug answer the door opens behind them. He turns around, but it’s only a servant emptying a bucket of water in one of the former flower beds, too busy to take notice of them.  
She forces him to look at her again by placing a hand around his chin and turning his face towards her. Fishing a handkerchief out of her sleeve, she wipes once over his lips. By gently keeping hold of her wrists, he stops her.  
He is not a small child whose mother keeps wiping invisible dirt from his face.  
“I am not sure but I guess you don’t fancy wearing the red of my lips onto yours. At least not for today’s evening.”  
Without a word he takes the piece of cloth out of her hand and continues her doing under her amused look. Damn these make-up…  
She even giggles as she can’t hold it back any longer. She takes the cloth as he’s handing it back to her, pressing it once against her own lips for a perfect red shape of these. Neatly she’s folding it and putting it into the inner pocket of his jacket. “Keep it, for the dull and boring days in Setauket,” she smirks.  
He bends down a little bit, a mug grin on his face, placing a finger beneath her chin and lifting up her face. “I know different things to keep me entertained.” Sadly she pushes him back before he could get the chance to kiss her.  
She raises an admonitory finger. “Nanana, I don’t kiss on the first date.” She walks past him, straight towards the door that will lead them back into the cosy warmth of the house.  
“Oh yes,” he chuckles, “I forgot, you don’t. You only do very different things on your first date.” He turns around, following her.  
“You seduced me.”  
“Oh really? When I remember correctly it was you who seduced me.”  
“Oh no.”  
“Oh yes… Let us call it a draw. We seduced each other.”  
She turns around as she reached the door. Looking as if she has to think it through. “Hmm… alright. I can live with a draw. And you?”  
“I am more than pleased with a draw.”  
“We’ll see if that might change,” she smirks and opens the door, entering. Immediately the warmth of the inside embraces her and she opens the knot that keeps her cape in place.  
After closing the door, he helps her, placing his hands onto her shoulders from the back, thumbs gently rubbing these. “It can change whenever you want.”  
A pleasurable shudder runs down her spine and she takes a deep breath with his voice whispering in her ear, resisting the desire to turn her head and kiss him again. His whispering voice sounds as good and seductive as she remembers it had been. “Whenever I want?”  
“At any time.”  
“I keep that in mind.” She takes a step forward to avoid the danger to give in right in that moment. She’s close to do so, but it would be madness. When neither of them would return to the party... even her father would get then what is going on between them. Her cape slips off of her with the movement, he keeps hold of it.  
With a crooked smile his eyes are locked onto her back as she walks down the hallway, back into the ballroom. Without a word he hands the cape at her maid who stepped silently out of the shadow, always with both of her eyes on her mistress, it hasn’t changed, before he goes after her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! You still like it? Is it good? Is it terrible? Comments would be nice :)


	20. Is there anything sweeter

Mary-Ann puts the cape of her mistress's over her arm, watching sternly her being followed by the Captain as she returns to her father's party. The feeling in her guts tells her that he is no good. He was reckless back then and she doubts he has changed. It needed a single wrong word and he could be unimaginable violent. He could be the calmness in person on the outside. But she remembers how they returned once from the Academy. Beating a comrade’s face into bloody mash. He was the last one to hesitate taking out his pistol, using his bare fists or starting a duel. Everything about him, even his smile, is threatening in her eyes. Her mistress told her he would make her happy. But she hopes her happiness won’t be shattered one day. For her mistress sake she doesn’t want to be right.

He continues chattering with the General and a fellow Admiral his godfather introduces him to. Leaving an impression that he’s expected at the promotion ceremony of his godfather to continue their talk as he bid his goodbye. His godfather protests, it’s too early, the clock only hit midnight. He would like to stay but he will go back to his post in the next morning and it will be a long ride, he should get a good sleep before. He leaves the room, taking the steps that lead upstairs and stops with a grin as he can hear steps behind him.  
“I thought you would take every cup I would reach you. You haven’t taken one today.”  
Slowly he turns around, his eyes on her as she steps closer with a glass of wine in her hand. “Is it poisoned?”   
She shrugs with her shoulders.   
Stepping down again he takes the glass out of her hand, pouring it down with one movement, putting it down onto the banister. “So, you try to kill me?”  
“Who says that I am not carrying the antidote with me?”  
“Means I have to search you for it?”  
“Maybe it is in plain sight?”  
He takes another step closer, stopping right in front of her now. “Would you mind a search,” he smirks.   
Slowly she shakes her head, smiling up to him. She doesn’t mind at all as he puts an arm around her waist and pulling her close to do what he would have liked to do earlier. Kissing her in a way that makes her forgetting every other kiss she shared until now.   
She sighs as he puts a hand onto her cheek; her owns resting on his shoulders. The kiss she was waiting for since he interrupted her bath in the morning. She gives in, twice, three, four times before he lets go of her lips.   
“Seems like you carry the antidote on your lips,” he breathes, “Guess I have to be sure.”   
She is more than pleased as he kisses her again, locking his lips with hers, parting these for each other. A sound of protest leaves her as he is about to dig his fingers into her hair. “Are you insane,” she whispers, pushing him a few inches away, “not my hair, not here.”  
“If I would have only got paid every time I was asked this question.”  
“Maybe you shouldn’t ruin my hairdo in the hallway where anyone could enter at any time? Most likely my father?”  
“Then why are we kissing in the hallway where anyone could enter at any time?”  
“Let’s say we are both very passionate beings.”  
He chuckles lowly. “I remember very well the passion you marked me with. Scratchy like a wild cat.” The grin is teasing.  
“And you were the reason why I had to wear shawls and fichus around my neck and shoulders in summer.”  
The grin on his face tells her how proud he actually is about this. Mischief sneaks into his eyes. “So, in case of a sudden outburst of passion it would be better to retreat somewhere more private, is that what you’re trying to tell me?”  
“Yes.”  
“That can be arranged.” He takes her by the hand and draws her with him up the stairs, left down the corridor. He looks puzzled at her as she stops suddenly as they are about to pass her rooms.  
“Father would never dare to enter my rooms without my permission. Can you say the same?”  
“No,” he smirks with mischief in his eyes. Taking a step closer as she turns towards the door and opens it, pulling him with her. Just as he shut it close he can already feel her hands onto his shoulders, turning him towards her and somehow he expected her lips to meet his.  
This time she doesn’t mind at all that he digs his fingers into her hair. The contrary. She always loved it. When he entwined his fingers in her hair, gently pulling at it, making a mess out of it. She missed it, painfully missed it just like his lips and kisses. Small sighs are leaving her lips while he presses her more against himself, the kisses only interrupted for taking short breaths until he slowly glides with his lips down to her neck. It’s her turn now to bury her hand into his hair, holding him close and enjoying his lips on her skin. So long until she starts to giggle for he tries unsuccessfully to get rid of her stomacher to get to the hooks that keep the manteau together. Still giggling, she shoves him away. “Out of practice,” she asks with amusement in her voice and eyes. Is that a tiny pout? She needs to memorize it. Defeated by female fashion.  
“You women and your ridiculous fashion.”  
Playfully she pushes him towards her bedroom, taking her stomacher off pin for pin as if it would be the easiest thing in the world. “I don’t know where the problem is.” She simply drops it onto the floor, walking towards him. The rooms are dark, no candle, no lamp is giving them their soft and warm light. Only the pale moonlight helps to see each other.  
“You’re cheating. There must be a trick somehow.” Walking slowly backwards in the hope not to walk against any kind of furniture, tripping and smashing his head at some sharp edges.  
She giggles again. “Well compared to you I pin it on every day and off every night, every day of the week, every week of the month, every month of the year.” She pushes him into the right direction, shoving him towards her bed. She stops him right in front of it, fingertips wandering playfully from his cravat down to the waistband, looking up with a crooked smile. “But thanks to your lucky star you have me now again to practice. There will be days and nights when we won’t have so much time. You need to become quicker.”  
One corner of his lips lifts up. “I remember that ´quick` was something you didn’t use to fancy.”  
She gives him a love tap; he falls back, sitting on the bed now. “Desperate times call for desperate measures.” She was about to open the front lace when he stops her, taking her hand into his, kissing it while looking up to her. She needs to take a deep breath with the look he gives her to not give him the satisfaction that she melts right away in his arms. With the look of a predator and the grin full of hunger.  
“But for tonight,” he says while placing his hands onto her waist, drawing her closer, “I guess nothing needs to go quick.” Without taking his gaze off her face he opens hook for hook until he can shove that piece of fabric down her shoulders. He leans in closer, arms reaching around her to open the laces of her skirts.   
A small sigh escapes her lips, so slowly and carefully. It hasn’t changed. She lifts one arm, stroking lovingly the hair out of his face. The feeling of his hair between her fingers; she terribly missed it. His arms around her, his hands stroking her clothes off… A lick over her lips, a trembling breath as his fingers are working on the lacing of her stiff bodice. A feeling of relief the more he opens it until it drops finally to the floor. A deep breath, a little shudder with his gaze wandering over her body that’s only covered by a thin chemise now. Fingers tracing the outlines of her breasts, down to her belly, the sides and thighs. A shudder as his hands slipping beneath her chemise, his fingers first on her stocking, going up to meet her bare flesh. Again a sigh from her lips with him, stroking the naked skin of her thighs, kneading it lovingly.   
“Is there anything sweeter than these hours of love,” he breathes between small kisses on her belly, “when we’re together, and my heart races?” Wandering up with his lips, kissing the bow beneath her breasts. “For what is better than embracing and fondling…” Fingers kneading her bottom, enjoying her warm skin, the soft flesh in his hands, hearing her little sighs of pleasure. Like music. No, better than music since he is the cause of such lovely tunes with her voice. “…when you visit me and we surrender to delight…,” murmuring against the fine fabric of the chemise, kissing the spot once more. He can feel her fingers gliding from his neck up into his hair; a sound of pleasure is her reward, a small giggle his.  
“Let me guess… your precious Cicero? Ovid? Catullus?” His precious roman writers… Oh, how much she loved it when he breathed their lovely verses into her ear, against her skin.  
“No,” he smirks, “Egyptian, older than the Roman empire.” Looking up, he can see even in the darkness of these rooms and only with the moon as light giver that her cheeks are blushed. How lovely she used to and looks now with that natural blush caused by him. Only in a chemise, the hair already a mess…  
“Don’t you think… that you wear a bit too much to recite ancient Egyptian verses?”  
He stands up with a chuckle, hands gliding upwards to rest on her waist. “Want to change it?”  
She gnaws at her bottom lip with her eyes gazing up and down on him, her fingers playing with the lapel of his jacket. “I don’t know… actually… you look quiet appealing in that uniform…”  
Another chuckle. “So that’s the true reason why I am here with you, you’re into uniforms.”  
A playful slap against his shoulder. “Well… on you…”  
The grin on his lips boasting with confidence. “So… should I keep it on? Might be a bit obstructive.”  
“Hmm,” now she plays with the buttons of the jacket, “you can put it back on later…”  
Another low laugh before he kisses her, getting rid of his jacket, dropping it to the floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Is there anything sweeter than these hours of love,  
> when we´re together, and my heart races?  
> For what is better than embracing and fondling  
> when you visit me and we surrender to delight?"  
> \- Ancient Egypt ca. 1085 - 570 BC


	21. Her shining knight to slay dragons with

“Have you something to tell me, Mary-Ann?” Sir Samuel Graves stands with his back to the door at a table, swirling the last sip of wine in his glass. All his guests are already gone by now. Two servants emptying the tables, taking glasses and dishes, empty bottles in the kitchen. The only ones who would approach him now would be either his body servant or the maid of his daughter. The steps are short, light, female. So it must be the maid.  
“I have seen her with your godson, Sir.” A sound of amusement leaves him. “Mary-Ann, everybody saw them in the company of the other one today. They talked with each other.” He hears her taking two steps closer. A servant erasing a few candles and lamps, stops with a gesture of his master and leaves the room, closing the door. “I saw them leaving for a walk. She was kissing him outside. They flirted. He touched her by returning inside. Not how it would be proper but… sensual.” “Have you more to tell?” “More kisses as they left the party.” “Only kisses?” She hesitates shortly before she continues. “They went upstairs. Together.” “Well, they both have their rooms upstairs.” “She took him with her. Into her rooms.” She feels like betraying her mistress. She entrusts her with everything, with all her feelings, all her secrets, trusts her to keep it all for herself, to be silent. But on the other hand, she promised to tell the hand who pays her everything she sees and witnesses concerning his daughter and his godson. She feels like a spy. But she only wants the best for her. Does not want her to be heartbroken, to have her dreams shattered. Does not want him lying at her, hurt, cheating and betraying her in any way. A small smile plays around his lips. Finally he empties his glass with one last sip. “And since then?” “He hasn’t left so far.” “And won’t so soon I guess. Thank you, Mary-Ann. You can withdraw now. Neither I nor my daughter, I guess are going to need your services for the night. Good night.” He can’t see it, but he knows that she makes a tiny courtesy before she leaves. Elizabeth and John, he thinks. An old flame never dies how they say. First love, last love. He grins to himself. Maybe his little Princess is going to marry one day. Maybe even this year. For obviously she found her shining knight to slay dragons with. Of course he knew and knows what’s going on between the people in his life that always have been like his own children. Already back then Mary-Ann came up to them to report. Worrying about Elizabeths welfare. Like every father, he would have liked to jump up in an instant and drag him out of the bed of his daughter if his wife wouldn’t have calmed him, reassured him that she knows exactly what she’s doing, how strong willed, she is with a smart mind and how young people are… they will always find a way, even if he would lock her up. His wife told him later that Elizabeth confessed everything to her. She would like John; it would be more than liking. He would have deep feelings for her too, he is honourable, he hasn’t done anything against her will. Also, she was mad at him for simply marrying her off without her consent. He only wanted the very best for her. But he saw soon, that this is not always really the best. She smiled more often, laughed more often, her eyes were shining with him around her, she was simply happy. So he played the unknowing, let them believe that their affair was still a secret, just so that she could be happy for a few more weeks. “So, you’re into stockings,” she giggles after she slipped out of her chemise, as he is already as bare as she is, and wants to take off her stockings but he kept her from doing so. Saying she should keep these on. She continues to giggle in delight as she crawls more onto the bed, laying back, lifting herself onto her elbows with him coming over her. “Well, on you,” he grins with repeating her own words from earlier, “and actually you look quite appealing with these.” Steadying himself on his right hand the fingertips of his left wandering slowly from her ankle to her the garter on her right leg. “Green,” he asks with a crooked smile and the raising of his brows, the thumb stroking over the silk of the ribbon that holds the stocking in place. She sighs with his fingers, not taking her eyes off him. So concentrating while stroking her leg… She answers him with a coquettish smile. “Well… I thought it would be fitting to your uniform.” She rubs her thighs at each other with his low laugh. The voice, low and darker by now. He knows exactly what this voice does to her, especially when it whispers and gets all husky, breathing lovely words into her ear, murmuring these against her skin… “So cunning…” He lifts her leg, placing a kiss at the side of her knee. “I forgot how much I loved that about you.” He keeps on holding his gaze at her while placing more kisses on her lower thigh. Warm and soft, just how he remembers. And her scent… clean, soap, a bit of rose… simply her scent. He still could say by a simple piece of clothing if it belonged to her by the scent only. Watching her in the silver moonlight, her pale skin, the blush on her cheeks… How her breasts are moving with every deep breath to hide her anticipation, her want and need. A shiver runs down her spine, caused more by his stern look than his caresses. Want, need and anticipation are describing her feelings very good right now. She wants him. She needs him. She can’t wait for it. It makes her heart aching that it hasn’t changed how lovely he caresses her, with how much patience, how much pleasure he wants to give her. Without hesitation, she sits up, her legs resting at his sides, a look of surprise on his face. With a hand in his neck, she pulls him closer, kissing him passionately and the sound she draws from his lips with her fingers driving up into his hair is filling her with satisfaction. She draws him with her as she lies back again, sighing against his lips with his hand stroking and kneading her thighs. Her fingers driving through his hair, wandering back to his neck, the shoulders, down his chest, carefully using her nails. Another shiver runs down her spine with the sound of pleasure with his voice, breaking away from his lips, panting. Her breath becomes more frantic with him, caressing the inner sides of her thighs, wandering higher until she presses herself against him, her sigh lustful. His fingers teasing, his lips spoiling… She whimpers with his lips at her ear, whispering lovely verses, his fingers intensifying his efforts. She would have giggled in another situation that he once more recites his precious dead Romans. But currently the pleasure becomes too unbearable for her to giggle. Hips moving along to the rhythm of his fingers, little moans of his name, fingers digging into his shoulders and the back. The embrace of her arms, to feel her gasping breath on his skin, her pleading voice at his ear… her little voice, ecstatic and joyful, sometimes groaning, sometimes sighing and whimpering his name. He can feel her body trembling, the pressure on his sides by her thighs growing, feels her slick lust on his fingers, the proof of her need. Loosing herself completely to him, only increasing his own arousal. But by everything, her voice sighing his name so lovely and lustfully is like salvation. Better than he remembers, better than everything before.


	22. One last time

Her sounds were getting ever sweeter with their union. How many nights he had to spend, how long he had to live without her lovely sighs and lusty moans. Her lips stroking over his cheek, the ear, the hot breath on his moist skin... The incredible feeling of her body moving with his, trembling beneath him, the tight embrace of her arms, the pressure of her thighs... She makes his heart beating faster, making his blood rushing through his veins; she increases his lust, the heat within him, the urgent need to have her all for himself alone. Again and again and again...  
Now they lie next to each other, staring at the ceiling and still gaining their breaths after they kept holding close each other by the sweet bliss they gained, the sweet aftermath. Quite naturally he puts an arm around her shoulder, pulling her closer and she curls up next to him, head resting on his shoulder.  
She sighs with his fingertips drawing invisible patterns on her skin, stroking it. With a wide smile she looks up to him, giggling as he turns his face towards her until both are laughing lowly. "Was this also one of your famous ´one last timeˋ or are we going to repeat it," she asks.  
"It´s your choice."  
"How many ´one last timeˋ did we have?"  
"I don´t know, I lost count at twenty." He joins in her laughter. He laughed more in these two days than in the whole last five years. Her very own witchcraft. Two days are enough to bewitch him an putting him under her spell once more. What a lie, it didn´t even take two days.  
"My choice?"  
"Of course."  
"Then I want it again and again and repeating it for the next decades."  
"Now or could we maybe pause for a moment?"  
She giggles. "Are you telling me that you´re out of breath? You´re getting old, John."  
"I only have your pleasure in mind."  
"Oh, is that true?" She sits up in one fluent movement and placing herself on his lower stomach. "Doesn´t feel this exhausted like you claim to be," she smirks.  
Slowly his hands are stroking up her thighs, eyes admiring and taking in every detail of her body he is able to see. Wandering up and down her body with the soft skin that looks almost white through the moonlight shining in. The hair a mess of slight curls framing her face, with the flushed cheeks, falling over her shoulders and those soft breasts. A small movement of these with her steady breath. Just like this, naked and flushed, soft and with desire in her eyes, the naughty sparkle in these, licking her lips, just like this has his personal Madonna to look like. The only one he would pray to, the only one that would hear his prayers.  
Hands gliding over her thighs, enjoying the juicy flesh beneath his fingers, softly kneading it. His gaze locked on her face. Memorizing every small switch, every tensing of her jaw, every pressing of the lips together when he touches the right spots. When his fingers stroking upwards to her hips and waist, thumps gently rubbing her skin. He needs to take a deep breath as she starts to move uneasily on top of him. Uneasy with an urgency he shares.  
Graceful hands finding their way to his chest, moving down to his stomach and up again. Repeating it with the support of her fingernails the second time. He closes his eyes, putting his head back with relish by the moves of her hips and fingers. What a fool he has been. A fool on the edge of being a moron for dismissing her letters, thinking he could escape her delicate fingers. He doesn´t want to escape, never wanted to.  
She takes the chance and bends down, spreading kisses over his exposed throat and neck. She can feel his excitement growing with every kiss, every nibble and lick. Sounds of lust and desire are the reward for her efforts. A giggle leaves her as he holds her close and turns around with her, bringing her beneath him. She tightens the lock of her thighs and the grip on his hair. Making him look at her only to seal his lips with her own.

"So, you are going back to the most boring place on earth?"  
"I have to, my dear. Of course it would be more fun spending the days here with you, especially considering the weather, but nevertheless do I have duties to fulfil. Sadly these are waiting in Setauket."  
"Stupid Major..."  
"Whom of these?" He looks at her with a smirk playing around his lips, watching how she returns it.  
She watches him as he dresses himself, putting on his uniform properly again, shaving, brushing his hair. She usually liked watching him dressing and undressing but not this morning. Today it would mean that she wouldn´t see him for a while. Just when they met after so long, just when they had each other again. She lies on her belly and playing with her hair while watching him. A tiny pout plays around her lips now. "Well... father could for sure..."  
A little laugh escapes him. "I know you could convince your father to let his strings play to keep me here but I have unfinished business there. And I´ll be back when your father is promoted. Only three weeks until then."  
"Three weeks too much," she sighs and rolls onto her back. The blanket slips down and reveals her breasts. "Can I not even like this convincing you?" She puts on her most seductive come-to-bed eyes, underlined with a little sigh.  
He pauses in his doing, grinning while looking at her. Stepping towards the bed he places a knee onto the mattress. With his hands next to her head he bends down. Light like a feather he puts his lips onto her cheek, stroking with these down to her neck. Small, soft kisses on her neck. She moves against him with a sigh for more fraction than the hint of a touch by his lips. A gentle tremble of her puls against his lips. So seductive, to feel her pulse at his lips, to hear her sigh again so close at his ear, her breathing... "You make it so hard for me to leave right now," he breathes against her skin, feeling her shivering beneath him. With the fingertips of his hands he glides over her breast, softly nipping at her skin with his lips.  
"Then stay," she sighs.  
A low mumble. "There is nothing I'd like to do more right now..."  
"Would your stupid Major care if you'd delay your return for another hour?"  
He lifts his head, locking his eyes with hers. "Could you explain your father the delayed breakfast,mysteriously by both of us?"  
"I can." She does not break the gaze. "Like I did so many times in the past," she grins at him.  
His eyes switching to her lips and back to her eyes. The memory of their sweetness and how softly they kiss came into his mind. How they can break any chain of thoughts of his with their slightest touch. Making his head feeling empty and his heart almost bursting. Still. She still makes him feeling like this. She still chose him, still wants him. She stayed true. He leans into her touch as she puts a hand onto his cheek. Here he has something he always wished for. A fine woman who loves him so dearly with all of him, even the very dark corners in his soul. A true lady, a fine woman, a cunning witch, bright minded and he doesn't doubt for a single second that she could burn down a whole Armada with a single strike. Elizabeth is everything, his everything. And he considers to leave once more,stupid fool. "I have to go, my love." It sounds way weaker than moments ago.  
She draws a sound of relish from him with her fingers gliding up into his hair. A smile plays around her lips. "Are you sure? Sounds more like your stupid Major will have to wait a bit more."  
He turns his gaze back to her. To hell with Setauket.  
She giggles as he presses his lips onto hers and getting rid of his jacket hastily.

"What a pitty that you already have to leave now."  
"Yes, John, what a pitty."  
He turns his head slightly to see the wide grin on her lips and the small naughty sparkle in her eyes. "Sadly duties don't care for little familiar reunions."  
"At least a few weeks only until I can welcome you here again as my guest, boy. See, my dear, no need to be sad. Those days will fly by like the wind."  
"I hope so, father. They can´t pass too quickly for my taste."  
He mirrors her grin this time. "What a time to be alive to hear that for you time can´t go by fast enough."  
"Don´t tell me that your little Setauket is funnier than splendid Philadelphia."  
"By far not, my Lady. It seems also like you make this town shining brighter than ever."  
"Don´t forget to drink your tea over spilling all those compliments." She smiles at him over the edge of her cup before taking a sip. Three terrible weeks are lying ahead of her. Boring and dull days. She will count them down. Only one night and she got used to it again of having his warm body next to hers beneath the blanket. She misses that feeling already now. "You need to promise to stay longer next time, John. Five years of war in a row, it´s only fair to take a break from it in my eyes."  
"I´ll ask the war to make a pause for two weeks, maybe Washington wants to accompany us to the coast for sea holidays."  
She rolls with her eyes.  
"You can always stay here as long as you wish, my son."  
"Thank you, Sir. I appreciate it."  
"And Elizabeth is right. Spending so much time in a war does no good to anybody. Even after you being held hostage and wounded you didn´t take a sick leave for at least a single day."  
"It was nothing, Sir, really, just a scratch."  
"Injured?!"  
John turns at her again. "Just a scratch, nothing more."  
"Well, I wouldn´t call a shot through your leg ´nothingˋ."  
Many thanks, godfather... Just like he predicted at the exact moment his godfather said those words is Elizabeth putting down her cup soundly and seems to burn holes into him with her stare. "I had worse..." And now she looks like she´s about to beat him with a basket full of apples.  
"Lucky for you that they´ve missed the artery."  
"Don´t worry, the butcher, they called doctor, made up for it." He thinks she is shortly about to take the knife and throw it at him.  
"To go back, I´d say you deserved to take a few days off and enjoy the sweet life. I want you to outlive me for many years, boy."  
"Oh, I am sure Miss Elizabeth will take care of it, Sir. I guess she would pull me personally out of the grave and shaking me until I wake up again. Yelling at me why I have left without her permission."  
The admiral giggles now. "I guess not even death himself would dare to anger our Lizzie."  
"Are you two mocking me?"  
"The contrary, my dear. See it as a compliment that you´re so fierce that you can make even death drawing back."

He could hear by the footsteps in the hall that she´s approaching. Little, angry steps. That´s why he doesn´t turn around and continues with packing his saddle bags as the door to the room is shut. "Coming to say goodbye?"  
"You were shot and holding hostage?!"  
"Only through my upper thigh and only for a few days by your pretty blue coated Major."  
Damnit, that she was too busy last night as to recognize injuries or scars. She reminds herself to do so the next time. "You could have gotten killed!"  
He stops with packing and slowly turns around to her. "I am a soldier. In a war. ´Could have gotten killedˋ is my daily loan."  
"You didn´t care?"  
"What did I have to lose?"  
She holds her breath for a moment as she looks him in the eyes. Telling her without words that he indeed had nothing to loose and couldn´t have cared less whether he lived or died. "And now?" Her anger disappears piece by piece as he comes closer to her.  
A little smile spreads across his face. He lifts his hands, cupping her chin and raising her face. A thump gently strokes over her bottom lip. "Now I have indeed something to loose." His smile widens into a grin as he watches how her cheeks are blushing and she´s suppressing a smile on her own. He bends down to her and captures her lips with his own.  
"You better take care to not be shot again," she says with a little pout. "Or I´ll find that old injury of yours and digging in it until you wish you´d be dead."  
"Why am I not doubting you for a single second?" Gently he kisses her again.  
"You need something that reminds you of me in dull Setauket."  
"I still have your handkerchief with the sweet shape of your lovely lips," he grins, patting the spot on his jacket where he keeps it in an inner pocket.  
"But I have something better." With a smirk she pulls out a green ribbon, that usually keeps her stockings in place, out of her sleeve.  
"You wore it last night," he grins and takes it out of her hand, playing with it between his fingers.  
"I thought it would be better than a handkerchief."  
"I´ll keep both of these. Both have warming thoughts."  
"I thought so."


	23. She would like to go to Setauket herself and dragging her Captain out of it

She stirs the tea in her cup now for several minutes with her gaze onto the table but staring into the wide nothing. It´s the seventh sigh within ten minutes that leaves her lips. She jumps out of her thoughts as she was asked, obviously something and by not answering for a few times in a row laid a hand onto her shoulder; the owner of the hand asking her if everything is alright. "I´m sorry, I- It is just... I am so far away from home the first time, Milady, and I am wondering how my mother is doing. I never before have been separated from her." But truly her thoughts had been at a certain Captain.  
"Oh my dear, I remember very well how I had to leave my mother. The worst days of my life. "  
"You are homesick. It is very natural to miss your home and mother. To be honest, Philadelphia isn't London."  
A small laughter fills the room. Luckily for Elizabeth they start now to talk about all the comfort and amusements London has to offer and are missing here, so deep that neither of the two elder Ladies recognises that Elizabeth isn't taking part in the conversations.  
"Was your mother sick as you left?"  
Again torn out of her thoughts, she turns her head slightly to a young blond. What was her name? Sh... Shippen! Miss Peggy Shippen, right. "No, Miss Shippen, she was in very good health as I left. I just generally worry because I know she will worry for me. Her little daughter so far away," she smiles and shrugs with her shoulders. Beautiful would be the word, Lizzie would use to describe Miss Shippen. Hair like rays of sunshine, eyes like the Caribbean sea, the face with soft lines and her voice gentle. And the smile she gives her is warm and kind.   
"It must be nice to have a mother that worries so much over ones well being. I am sure yours is alright and happy for you to see the world and that you can see your father again after such a long time." A hand is put onto her upper arm with a gentle pressure.  
"Thank you, Miss Shippen," smiles Elizabeth, "But I can take from your words that something with yours is not so alright?"  
"Oh, my mother died many years ago, there are only my father and me," she replies with a little wave of her hand."  
"I'm so sorry, I didn't know." It upsets herself to have been so insensitive.  
"No need to, Miss Gwillim," she smiles again. "It was so long ago, I don't know it different anymore."  
Her father really could have told her that as he surprised her two days ago that she's invited for tea at a Lady Tontham, Lady Morgue and a Miss Shippen. She should learn to know the high society of Philadelphia and her father told her nothing. Rather than having this boring tea she would like to go to Setauket herself and dragging her Captain out of it on her own. More than two weeks... almost three... It is unfair.  
"Let us change the topic to something more delightful. I was told that you are artistic, Miss Gwillim?"  
"I wouldn't call it artistic, just dumb scetches, a bit playing around with brushes and colours... Every great master of arts would laugh at me for sure."  
"Oh no, no ,no, I am sure you are very talented, Miss Gwillim. Even the great Boticelli just started with scetches. Are you doing portraits?"   
"Landscapes."  
"You need to show me once your landscapes, Miss Gwillim, I would really like to see them. In Philadelphia are some amazingly places in spring I always thought of would be perfect for such things."  
"Really? I hope you're going to show me those when spring finally arrives."  
"Only if you show me your works first."  
Both women are laughing lowly. After one more hour, as they said goodbye, the both of them agreed that they are no longer Miss Shippen and Miss Gwillim, but simply Peggy and Lizzie. With the promise to see each other again soon. Both liked each other, both thought of each other as sympathetic and for both it was delightful to make a new young contact and not mostly knowing Ladies and Duchesses far beyond their own age. And maybe, Elizabeth thinks, when she´s making at least one friend here it might help her to shorten the waiting for the day of the promotion of her father. And to see her fancy Captain again.

Since they left Philadelphia Akinbode recognized a change in the behaviour of his Captain and it didn´t change as they entered Setauket again. Always with a small smile, calmer, the expression... he could describe it better with ´blessed´. Maybe he thinks no one would notice, but he saw that once in a while, a hand sneaks to the chest pocket of the jacket, the fingers shortly stroking the spot. A gift, a souvenir of the Admirals daughter? It looked anything else than like a secret that these two know each other very well and obviously have a secret history together. The way the Captain smiled and looked at the young Lady... is probably just like he looks and smiles at Abigail. He sighs with the thought of Abigail. The days in Philadelphia have been too short. Maybe with a bit of luck they will be called to Philadelphia permanently. It seemed like the Admiral wants his godson close around and not only for the happiness of his daughter.  
"Akinbode."  
He looks up from the book he reads by the simple mention of his name. A book the Captain gave him. He´s no slave anymore and he won´t be treated like one ever again. So he reads whatever he can get his hands on. Not to impress Abigail but to see the dumb faces of those assholes when he can recite ancient writers. And maybe a little bit to impress Abigail... She´s always so proud of her son that he learns to read and write and keeps getting better... To his luck his Captain was delighted to introduce him in the ancient writings.  
He already wants to stand up as he´s signed to relax and keep sitting down before he´s taking a seat on his own opposite of him.  
"How are you coming along with Odysseus so far?"  
"It was a bit difficult in the beginning but it keeps getting easier, Sir. Very adventurous."  
"There is coming more, just wait," Simcoe nods and crosses his legs. "I have to ask you to do something for me."  
Of course he does not come for a little chat. Only a few enjoy at this time of the day the Strong tavern and those who do know to be blind and deaf when Captain Simcoe enters. "Anything, Sir."  
He reaches into the inner pocket of his jacket and takes out two neatly folded papers, letters, putting them onto the table. "I don´t trust any messengers, not in this time and especially not with this here." He shoves the letters over to his subordinate. "The destination is Philadelphia. That one is for Admiral Graves and that one for Miss Gwillim. You will deliver them and give them only into said hands. No maid, no servant. Only the Admiral and Miss Gwillim. You will stay in Philadelphia until you get a reply from both. Only then you´ll return. Understood?"  
"Yes, Sir."  
"Wonderful," he grins. "Now go. And don´t forget, not until you get a reply." Joyful describes his voice best.  
"O course, Sir." He takes the letters, stores them into his pocket as he rises with the book in his hands, shoving the stool at the table. With a simple nod, he leaves.  
He looks after his subordinate until he left the tavern. He totally entrusts him and does not doubt him for a second. He is sure he´s going to deliver the letters and not getting caught by the enemy or killed. Only as he´s gone his fingers are reaching into his pocket again. This time he pulls out a green ribbon. The grin stays on his lips. He plays with it between his fingers, lifting it, smelling at it. Her scent... two weeks only and he will have more to grab and to play with...  
"Can I... get you something, Sir?"  
He knows that voice without looking up, knows by the little pause that she swallows once. Looking for words, nervous, wanting it to be over as soon as possible, wanting to get away, only doing her duty and hoping he does not want anything and leaves quickly again. Just hoping he will simply leave. He puts the ribbon away, looking up now. It is her lucky day. "No." He stands up, shoving the chair closer at the table. Still with a grin on his face. "Nothing you have to offer. Good day, Miss Strong." Satisfaction describes best his expression as he leaves the tavern.  
Uneasy Anna Strong looks after the Captain. She feels way more uncomfortable since he returned, with him not wasting a second glance at her when she earlier always felt like a prey being watched by a predator. Is this a new game? Does he have an inkling? Is he suspicious of her? Did she say or do anything suspicious? Does he know something?! She is never sure if he knows anything... Like that he feels bigger of a threat than before in her eyes.


	24. Give me a thousand kisses

Akinbode remembers the way to the mansion of the Admiral very well. It´s the first thing he´s doing, delivering the letters. Before anything else. The Captain entrusted him with this and he´ll do exactly how he´s been told to. Right in front of the house of the Admiral he brings his horse to a halt by shortly pulling at the bridles. Getting off, he doesn´t bother to bind it on a fence or a tree. No one would be stupid enough to steal a horse from a Queen´s Ranger. Straight forward he goes to the door and knocks three times heavy and loud, taking a step back. Only seconds later the door opens.  
"How can I help you, Sir?"  
A servant. "I need to talk to the Admiral, it is urgent. I have a delivery for him."  
"I will make sure that he is getting..."  
"No, I will give it over myself. I have my orders. For the hands of the Admiral only."  
The servant hesitates a second, looking up and down on him before stepping aside and signing him with a nod to enter. "You´re lucky that the Admiral is in." He closes the door as the Ranger entered. "If you would please follow me?"  
Akinbode takes a short look around as he is lead to an office. "Wait here," he is advised as the servant knocks at the door and enters as he is called in. He´s taking his hat off and pulls the letter out of his jacket that is for the Admiral. He has no idea what is written on that piece of paper, but that´s probably just for the best for him. The door is opened again with the servant in the frame.  
"The Admiral will see you now, Sir."  
"Thank you." He enters, the door is closed in his back. A salute follows as he sees the high ranked man sitting at his desk.  
"Welcome back in Philadelphia, Mister Akinbode. Please take a seat. My servant told me you have something for me?"  
"By the order of Captain Simcoe, Sir." He steps closer and reaches the letter over the desk. "To give it only in your very own hands, Sir." He only sits down as the Admiral takes the letter.  
"Our dear John... Of course he sends you." Admiral Graves breaks the letter open and starts to read it immediately.  
Either it is nothing of importance or he has very good control over his expressions and by how experienced the older one must be, Akinbode guesses the second.  
"Does he await an answer?"  
"Yes, Sir."  
"I can´t give it to you right now."  
"That is no problem, Sir. I will stay in the inn from last time."  
"Good, I will call for you when the answer is ready. If you excuse me now? I´ll have to meet some very important men. Jonathan will guide you to the door. Good day, Mister Akinbode and thank you for delivering the message."  
He rises at the same time the Admiral does, stuffing the letter into the pocket of his waistcoat and putting on his frock-coat. Akinbode salutes once more. "It´s an honour for me, Sir."  
As if the servant, the older one calls Jonathan, outside was just waiting to hear those words, the door is opened with these.  
On his heels, he turns around and steps through the door, following the servant back into the entrance hall. "I have another message to deliver. It is for Miss Gwillim."  
"Also only into her hands, I guess?"  
"You are guessing right."  
"We´ll see about that. I get her maid. You´ll have to get through her first before seeing the mistress."  
Again he takes a look around while waiting. It feels good to be the one waiting. If he could own something like this ever? A big house with tapestries of silk, expensive carpets and paintings on the walls, those fine carvings in the balustrade...  
"Jonathan said you have a message for my mistress, Sir?"  
He turns his gaze up the staircase as the maid appears, stepping down and stopping halfway.  
"I have, Ma´m."  
"You can give it to me."  
"I have my orders, Ma´m. Only for your mistress´ hands."  
"By whom?"  
"Captain Simcoe. Order and message, Ma´m."  
She twists her mouth, looking aside shortly. She does not seem to make a secret out of her displeasure with her masters godson. "I guess you don´t know what the message says?"  
"No, Ma´m. The business my Captain has with your mistress is not my business."  
She turns her gaze back at him as if he just gave the right answer. "Wait. I´ll tell her."  
This time not even seconds pass until the Lady shows up at the top of the stairs. Her fingers gliding playfully over the dark wood of the balustrade while she slowly takes steps by step down. A smile at the corner of her lips. Beautiful and graceful, knowing exactly the effect she has on men.  
"Mister Akinbode, what a surprise to see you here. You haven´t brought our dear Captain wit you?"  
"I am sorry to disappoint but no, Milady. But it was the Captain who sent me."  
"My maid said you have something for me by him?"  
He takes out the letter. "Yes. With the strict order to give it only to you and no one else."  
Her smile widens as she steps closer, stopping in front of him and holding out her hand. Carefully he lays the letter into it.  
"I also have the order to return with a reply."  
She grins. "So... he is waiting for an answer..." She twists and turns the paper in her fingers. With a smirk she looks up to him. "Well, in that case... come back tomorrow and enjoy your stay. Philadelphia has a lot of pleasures to offer." She winks once and turns away. Already on her way up to her rooms she opens the letter and starts to read.  
Did she... just wink at him? Did she really just wink at him? Before he could think further, Jonathan interrupts him and placing a small leather purse with clanking coins into his hand.  
"A ´Thank you´ by the Admiral. For your service."  
"Tell him my thanks." he places his hat back on, putting the purse away and takes his leave.

She reads his letter again and again, especially the last verses. ´Give me a thousand kisses, then a hundred, then another thousand and then another hundretˋ . "Oh, just wait," she murmurs with a smile, "you´ll get another thousand for free when you´re back here." She presses the paper against her chest. She will write a reply later. First she wants to dwell a bit longer into the feelings his written words are giving her and she does not want to write down the first things that are coming to her mind. Too hasty, too giddy... she is a grown woman and no thirteen year old Juliet who´s mind has been shut down completely by her heart. She will think closely about what she will reply, about the words to use to make him wish he would be here with her instead of in the boring place that calls itself a town. Not even two whole weeks from now, only eleven days. The smile on her lips grows. Although she is indeed curious what he had to write to her father.  
"Jonathan really couldn´t tell you what was written in the letter to my father?"  
"No, mistress."  
"But he went off immediately to meet the General?"  
"Ye, mistress."  
"Hm... I wonder what might be that important."  
"Well, I would say military concerns."  
"Yes, for sure but what are these exactly? Hm... I will sneak into the office anyway when he´s back." She knows where her father keeps his secret, important and compromising writings. She will get to know what was so important.

"Gentlemen, I guess with the latest information the time has come to act immediately."  
"But Samuel, let´s speak honestly. These are only suspicions your godson has. He doesn´t have any real proof to confirm these. He couldn´t say for sure any names."  
"Charles, if you want to speak honestly, then let us talk about how Edmund Hewlett is obviously incapable of keeping little Setauket and its citizens on the short leash. Those suspicions are enough in my eyes, Charles. Isn´t it strange that former citizens of Setauket are now members of Washingtons army? Isn´t it suspicious that one of them was already captured and accused of treason? Aren´t there still wives, father, mothers and siblings of those traitors living there? Aren´t all evidences in the matter of our blown plans leading to Setauket? Did Hewlett not already proof that he can´t control simple farmers with pitchforks? Can´t even prevent them from blowing up the local gunpowder storage? What for a Major is he, I ask you."  
"One who is still only a Major..."  
"I have to agree with Samuel. All that Captain Simcoe is telling us is indeed suspicious. Suspicious enough to investigate in my eyes."  
The General sighs. "What are you expecting me to do, Samuel? If we are going to investigate you think your godson would be the best for the job? Everybody in that town knows his face, he has a certain reputation that goes ahead of him. He is blown already as soon as he looks for a few seconds too long at someone. None of the Rangers and no other soldier would be perfect for it. These men are trained to fight and kill, not to spy."  
"If Washington sends now spies instead of men, I guess it is time to beat him with his own weapons."  
"Have you someone to offer, William?"  
"I was just saying."  
"Just saying, just saying, just saying..."  
The Admiral grins, crosses his arms in front of his chest and leans back. "Gentlemen... have I ever told you how my angel of a daughter tried to spy while she was captured by those rebels?"  
"Tried?"  
"She was held most of the time in a hutt, not much chances to do so... She counted men, weapons, barrels of gunpowder... she was pretty mad that she was rescued before she was brought to Fort Washington. All the things she could have seen and told us."  
"Are you trying to say your daughter would be up for that job? How do you want to explain..."  
"Well, she and my godson know each other very well. And if I plan to engage these two... Isn´t it natural for a woman to visit and see her soon to be fiancé and future husband? Nothing suspicious about it. No one except the Captain and his men are knowing her face. She has no connection to anyone than my godson and those are matters of the heart and not the King, not the British Empire, not the military. And who would mistrust a pretty face?"  
The General leans over to his friend. "My friend, you told me what happened the first time you tried to engage your daughter."  
"Charles," the Admiral chuckles, "this time she will be more than pleased and willed to agree, trust me. When I am back, she will sneak into my office, she will find that letter and read it and she will offer herself on her own for that task. We should accept that sometimes women are the best warriors."  
"At least they don´t get distracted by a pretty face."  
A mall laughter fills the room.

 

He turns his had around as he hears her giggling. "What is it?"  
"Oh, nothing, just... usuallly it is me helping the love interests of my master to sneak in and out. Now it is me who sneaks in and out."  
"Funny how the tables have turned, isn´t it," he smiles and sits down on the edge of the bed in the small room he rents for this day and night.  
"Somehow yes. But tell me, Akinbode, why are you really here? You´re in uniform, so you´re on duty, official. You are alone here?"  
"You are right. Do you know Graves? An Admiral, living not far from here, at the edge of the town."  
"Where it´s all clean and pretty... No, I don´t know him. I can´t remember either the Major ever mentioned that name."  
"A message I had to deliever to him and his daughter on the order of Simcoe."  
Abigail freezes as soon as she hears that name. "M-message? Do you..."  
"You´re the second woman to ask, no, I don´t know what´s written in these. I am waiting for their reply now. Tomorrow I go back to Setauket."  
"To Simcoe."  
"Yes, of course. He´s my commanding officer."  
Simcoe, Simcoe, Simcoe, it´s like the name is haunting them all, like an evil spirit. Strong, André and now Graves... All connected to him. And Akinbode now too. "I know it´s... your duty, but... please be careful. Please don´t get interfered into his business. He is an evil man, Akinbode."  
He hesitates a moment. "Well, he hasn´t been to me. Has he ever to you?"  
"No."  
"Then how do you know?" He sees her struggling for words. "Because he killed? I did too, that is the meaning behind a soldier. You kill and don´t think about it. It is either you or them and my new free life is way too precious for me to simply lose it again. Is it because of your former ´ownerˋ Miss Strong, who was so mad to lose her best slave by the order of the King? You don´t have to worry for her and unwelcome attentions by the Captain... I saw him and the Admirals daughter on his party more than a week ago, she will never have to worry again it seemed."  
"Akinbode, please, listen..."  
"No, you are listening." He stands up. "He was the first one to not treat me like the slave I once was, he treated me right from the start as equal and called me always by my name, never by my slave name. He always called me Akinbode. He makes sure that I am respected amongst the Rangers. Since I choose to serve them under Captain Simcoes command I am not looked at like I was once a slave. I haven´t been called names since that. You know what he told me on our first days in Setauket as Rangers? That he´ll give me permission to shoot everyone who gives me slurs. He trusts me, so much that he asks me to deliver important messages. Can you say the same? Are they not giving you strange looks when you walk down the street? Do they not look like you would steal any given moment when you go onto the market? Are they not call in an instant for an officer when you bump into someone per accident because you clearly had something vicious in mind? How many slurs have you heard on the streets?"  
"The Major treats me very well, he is good and kind to me and my..."  
"The Major and who else?"  
She owes him an answer.  
"The freedom the King gave us is worth nothing if you still let them treat you like a slave. Never again, I swore to myself. Never again."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Give me a thousand kisses, then a hundret, then another thousand, and then another hundred - Cathullus V


	25. A hell of a Captain

Just like the Admiral predicted did his daughter sneak into his office as he returned and she did find that letter and just like he thought she did offer herself for it. He said he would think about it but she shouldn't have too many hopes about it, it would be no job for a woman. He knows his little Elizabeth too well. She would tell John and he's not a good actor, the surprise would be over when she arrives at Setauket. He answered him that they indeed think about to investigate, but he'll thinks it's better to keep both in the dark until Elizabeth will arrive in Setauket. Besides that he is glad that she already made a friend here and visits that Shippen daughter every day.  
But today she prances around the house since the morning all excited. He guesses it is because John will arrive today. It makes him grin to see her like that. Of course she didn´t admit it, but he knows the reason for her incredible good mood is for sure John. His little darling daughter so deeply in love...  
"My dear, are you just as glad as I am to welcome John again?"  
"Well... it is nice to see an old friend."  
He smirks. "Isn´t it nice that he´ll stay for a few days? After such a long time? Enough time that you two can catch up properly."  
"Hm... yes... catching up," she murmurs into her cup before taking a sip.  
The smirk widens to a grin. "Well, you know for the mission in Setauket..."  
"Yes?"  
"You would have to... act as his fiancé. Would it... bother you?"  
"Hm," she shrugs with her shoulders, "could be worse..."  
"So it would not bother you to act to be in love with him?"  
Elizabeth looks at her father over the edge of her cup before putting it down. "Not for the mission, father. So am I..."  
"We haven´t decided yet. But if, I just want to be sure. It is something that should be well prepared."  
"Of course, father, but know, I would really like to do it! I would be glad to do so!"  
"You are really eager for it, don´t you?"  
"Of course I am, who wouldn´t?"  
"Not every woman," he grins.  
"I am not every woman," she returns the grin.  
"I know." And John does for sure too. "Tell me, is everything prepared for the arrival of our guest?"  
"Yes, father, I watched personally over it, the rooms are finer now than they ever have been."  
The grin widens once more. "And the kitchen..."  
"Prepared enough pudding and scones and they are deeply busy to prepare everything for tomorrow. It will be splendid, I know for sure. Oh and... I hope you don´t mind that I spontaneously invited Peggy and her father?"  
"Oh no, I don´t mind. I am eager to know whom you made friends with so quickly. So you will have at least one female company tomorrow, in your age, I mean." She already complained the first time about boring and old ladies she has no idea what to talk with especially when they only talk about fabulous London and she has been at the most only three times there.  
Yes, that was a benefit, but it wasn´t the main reason why she invited them.

"Well, therefore that we both have lost our hearts to men in the army..."  
"You haven´t told me that you´re engaged..."  
"I am not." Elizabeth looks to the side at her new friend with a smirk.  
"Oh," the blond one giggles lowly, "you need to tell me more."  
They both walk down the streets with arms linked. It is still winter but it was one of those rare days where the sun shone and made the grey sky a bit brighter for a while.  
"Well... he is British, of course," grins Elizabeth, "tall, handsome..."  
"Aren't they all handsome," giggles Peggy again, "it is like the British army is choosing their men only by the looks."  
Elizabeth joins into the giggling. "You're right. Well, he is incredibly good looking in his uniform, it is green and matches so wonderful with his hair and eyes, it is hard for me to say if I would like to tear it off or urge him to keep it on..." She get's a soft slap onto her upper arm.  
"Oh dear! Calm waters are running deep."  
Both are laughing.  
"And yours?"  
"I showed you..."  
"I don't talk about your soon-to-be husband," she winks. "Come on, my dear Peggy, you can tell me. We are talking about our British gentlemen and he's not one of them."  
"If you want honesty..."  
"I won't even tell my maid, trust me."  
"It was before Benedict came here, before we were engaged, just to make it clear. He is a Major. He... is very linguistic talented."  
"So he is good with the tongue?" Again a giggle from both.  
"And musical, he plays the flute and violin."  
"Oh, good with the fingers too, my dear, you are one lucky girl."  
"Lizzie!" Peggy tries to sound outraged while she laughs. "But yes... he gave me many pleasures." She sighs.  
"I can take from your sigh that you seem to miss him and his many talents?"  
"I am engaged, Lizzie... it wouldn't be proper to meet any other man."  
"Hmm... he is in the army... What's his name?" Her friend whispers it into her ear. "Oh... I guess I saw that name on the guest list of my father for the promotion..."  
"Lizzie..."  
"No one can say anything when, what a surprise, you meet at a party, officially invited. You should come, I am inviting you and your father, I am sure mine doesn't mind two guests more. And I could show you my hell of a Captain," she grins.

He catches himself how he moves a bit uneasy in the saddle as soon as he enters the town of Philadelphia, just like he notices that his heart started to beat a bit faster. It is not the honour of being invited by his godfather, not the ceremony for his godfather tomorrow, not the promise of peace for at least a few days... It is because of whom he sees as he approaches on his horse, the house of those who are the closest of a family he had so far. It is because of the woman dressed in green who makes him even on that distance smirking. Could that be his future? Could it look like that? She as his wife... He likes that thought more and more the deeper he thinks about it. And 'Elizabeth Simcoe' sounds actually pretty right in his ears. The image of her in front of his inner eyes, waiting for his safe return in front of their fine house to welcome him home again with a tight embrace and a passionate kiss... Once alone, another time visibly with child, then carrying their child on her hip... With her he would like to turn those images into reality. He turns his smirk into a polite smile as he is close enough.  
She tenses and straightens up a bit more the closer he comes. Not for a single moment is Elizabeth turning her gaze off him. Gladly she takes it to stand in the cold for these few moments. Especially as her eyes are fixed on his lower body while he gets off his horse. That sight is worth it to wait in the cold every damn time. She needs to control her facial expression as he approaches her and her father, as his gaze is locked onto her. Like he would slowly strode towards her, stopping in front of her and looking down onto her. With a smile and a little bow he takes her hand into his. Bringing it to his lips only to blow a kiss on the back of it.  
"It is my pleasure to see you again, Miss Gwillim."  
"The pleasure is all mine, Captain." She smiles. Her eyes follow him as he turns to her father. A tight embrace, a slap on the back of his shoulders and... she grins as she sees what good use he put her ribbon at; holding his hair together in the back of his neck. She links her arm with his as he offers it to her, following her father, who walks forward, into the house.  
"Looks nice what you did with my ribbon," she whispers.  
"I thought so," he replies with a grin.


	26. You are distracting me

The afternoon tea, and especially the evening, were filled with stolen looks and gestures they thought only they could recognise and see. Still both of them thought of it as pretty suspicious that the Lord of the house used a lot of cheap excuses to leave the two of them alone. So they used cheap topics to talk about to not strenghten any inklings her father might have about them. Drinking like the good kids they are their tea and talking about the weather. It was Elizabeth who declared in the early evening how the excitement for the following day and the preparations for today exhausted her so much that she´s incredibly tired and would withdraw to bed early.  
"That is indeed a good idea, my dear. It´s going to be a long day tomorrow," says the Admiral.  
"It´s also going to be one for you, father."  
"Yes, yes. But I have to speak with John in an important matter. Then I will go to bed."  
"Don´t only say it, follow your own words once, father." Elizabeth grins as she walks over to her father. "Good night." She gives him a kiss on the cheek. "And don´t bother John too long, he will need to be rested to tell his victorious stories of bravery tomorrow at the party."  
"I thought you would do that for me," he grins, "You are such a talent in story telling."  
"I´ll do so only if you play nice."  
"Nice?" But her eyes and the mischievous smirk of hers are telling him that nice is not what she has in mind. "I´ll try my best." He wants to say something different, but swallows the tease down through the presence of her father. He does not want to rub it right into his face that he does things with his daughter every devil would be proud of. And most of all are her eyes telling him that sleep is the last thing she wants to do now.  
"Good night, John," she smiles as she pasts him.  
"Good night, Miss Gwillim." He can´t keep his head from turning slightly so that his gaze can follow her for a few more seconds.  
"She grew into a fine woman."  
He snaps his head back at the Admiral. "Yes, Sir," he replies slowly, not sure if the Admiral wants to imply something or just meant it as an honest statement. "A fine woman indeed."  
"I hope one day she sees someone worthy enough to marry," sighs the elder one. "And I hope I am going to be still alive when that day comes."  
"I am sure you will." Slowly he takes a sip from his cup, not leaving his godfather out of his eyes.  
"Someone who loves and respects her equally. I only want to have her secure when I won't be there."  
"Understandable... in the matter of what I wrote you..." He feels uncomfortable lingering longer on the topic of Elizabeth when her father talks about marriage.  
"We have discussed this and we are discussing it. We came all to terms that we indeed need to react. I don't doubt you and trust you that there is a conspiracy going on in Setauket, espionage, treason... but it needs careful planning. Your face is well known there. So we need an unknown face to investigate. Hewlett never came up to you that something might be wrong?"  
"Either he is too dumb,too naive or he really never saw any suspicious behaviour in the citizens of Setauket." Or his eyes are blinded by the heart.  
The Admiral made a disgusted noise. "Maybe a combination of all of it... Elizabeth is right. We should all get a decent rest. I will let you know if we came up with a plan. Maybe the General is talking with you about it in person tomorrow."  
"Thank you for taking my concerns seriously, Sir."  
"Of course, my boy. Now good night. I bet there are a few tomorrow present Lizzie hasn't told about your brave rescue mission of her," he laughs lowly.  
John joins in the laughter. "I guess if I get promoted it will be through her and I will have to thank her properly." And he will start with it in a few minutes.  
"Have a good rest, boy. Good night." He goes around the table, patting his godson on his arm with a smile and with a nod he makes his way out of the dining room.  
He waits until he hears a door is closed, emptying his cup with one sip and rising while he puts the cup down. If it would be too bold to go straight to her? Probably. So his steps are leading him first into his room, but he is not alone as he enters.  
"My mistress wants to see you." Mary-Ann awaited him with a burning oil lamp in her hands.  
"I thought so. I guess there would be no other reason for you to linger in my rooms."  
"Follow me." Without waiting she turns around to open a door in the wall to a corridor only servants are using to move invisibly through the house.  
"You don't like me," he starts while he follows the maid through the servants corridor. "So why do you bring me to your mistress?" He was just curious or rather he would like to know if he can trust her like Elizabeth does. He would rather expect from her to catch his letters and burn them before Elizabeth could read them.  
"I still don't. But my mistress is very fond of you. Sadly by all men in this world, it is you that makes her eyes shining bright with happiness. And happiness is all I want for her. That's why I am doing this. For my mistress."  
"You are loyal... I respect that. It is a virtue that is getting too rare in current times."  
"As long as you are loyal to my mistress too..." She stops for a moment to throw a glance over her shoulder at him before continuing the walk. A few more steps and she opens another door, shutting it again as he stepped through.  
"I was already awaiting you."  
A smile spreads across his face as he steps into a bedroom, enlighted by the soft light of oil lamps, as he sees her with her hair open. Dressed only in a chemise of lace, playing and toying with his sight, short enough to reveal her stockings to his eyes, leaning against a post of her bed. She stuns him once more. By how the light makes her hair shining like fire, makes her skin glowing. The pattern of the lace that plays with light and shadow... The expression on his face softened as soon as he saw her, saw the smile of those pink lips. With relish his eyes are going up and down on her while he slowly steps closer. "Is this how you're going to welcome me now," he asks softly.  
"Only if you're a good boy," she smirks.  
"And if I am not?"  
"Try and find it out."  
With the fingertips of his right hand he strokes from her temple down her cheek, cupping it then with his hand. A gentle look in his eyes. "No. Not today." He bends down, softly putting his lips onto hers. The smile she gives him as he draws back... he lives for that smile, that sparkle in her eyes... his smile widens as she puts her arms around his neck, going on tiptoes only to press her lips onto his. A small sigh escapes her while fingertips are stroking beneath the hem of her chemise, playfully moving upwards, shoving her chemise higher. His lovely kisses, so gentle. She smiles as her fingers are diving into his hair. As he leans his forehead against hers, taking a deep breath with closed eyes. A little chuckle as he continues with caressing her with his lips, kissing a path down to her neck, fingertips playing at her hips. Another sigh and another one. A sound of pleasure on his own while she presses herself against his body, with a gentle pull followed by slow strokes through his hair before her hands are wandering to his shoulders and shoving the jacket off these. Only to get rid of it his hands are leaving her body.  
"Are you alright," she breathes.  
He does not stop tasting her skin. "Yes, why are you asking," he asks puzzled.  
A low giggle. "You haven't quoted your beloved dead romans yet."  
He joins into her giggle. "You are distracting me..."  
"That is your excuse? I am distracting you?"  
"Yes..."  
She giggles again. "I like that..."


	27. Soldiers fight to protect those who can't protect themselves

"Where do you get this?"  
"A shot. Don't worry, it was only scratching me."  
"And this one?" Gentle her fingers are tracing over his body, from one scar to another, softly stroking every single one she can see.  
"Glass shades. A fight in a tavern. Wrong place, wrong time and the bottle were really made of poor quality, it burst as soon as it hit me."  
"A fight in a tavern? Have you been looking at a sailors siren for too long," she smirks.  
"When you mean by sailor a several pounds heavy officer of Washington and by siren his little adjunt..."  
They both laugh lowly before she continues.  
"What about that one?"  
"Another shot that scratched me."  
"Let me guess, this one here too?"  
"Yes."  
"And this?"  
"That actually knocked me out for two days."  
"The trophies of a warrior... must be really helpful with the ladies." She looks up with a smirk he returns.  
"I know some who it does good service, but not for me."  
"Oh John, I am not stupid, come on. Do you really want to tell me you were true to me for five years with thinking I would be married?"  
"Maybe," he shrugs with his shoulders. "I don't know... I always had to think of you in such situations, how lovely and soft you were... how... passionate, honestly passionate and not acting for some extra coins... the others disgusted me somehow. Cheap in dark alleys and on the sidewalks... ugh. It was just seating primal needs. Nothing more."  
She giggles. "And the servants corridor between your and my rooms at my father's estate in Devon were better?"  
He joins in her giggle. "At least we both knew then that walls aren't comfortable."  
"And desks," she continues to giggle.  
"And the sandy and rocky ground of the shore at the pond."  
"Don't you dare mention the carriage," she laughs now.  
"Oh the carriage was the worst of them all, never again." He joins into the laughter.  
She snuggles closer with a little sigh as she calmed down again. Lovely memories of lovely and sweet moments. With her index finger, she glides deeper to his abdomen, moving across a small, linear scar. Not a bullet, she guesses. "What about this one?"  
"A knife." She does not need to know right now that he was stabbed by his former commanding officer whom he wanted to kill. Not now, he does not want to ruin the moment.  
Feather like her fingers are wandering playfully deeper. She can hear him taking a deep breath, shifting a little bit as she's busy with his inner thigh before she concentrates on his scar. "And that's the famous one that brought you into hostage?"  
"Yes..."  
"Did they not hurt all?"  
"Sure they did."  
"How do you cope with it?" She can feel his hand touching her hair, stroking over and through it.  
"There are different kinds of pain. One is striking hot and burns with every heartbeat. Another one is so annoying that it can drive you crazy. Then there is one that knocks the breath out of your lungs and makes you cramping and the last one is simply numbing."  
"And you lived through all of these?"  
"I had no choice."  
"How do you got through this?" Still she strokes slowly over his skin, her voice low and as caressing as her fingers.  
"You breath through it. You think to distract yourself from the pain. You hit that spot again and again to numb the pain. You pray through it."  
"The trophies of a warrior," she sighs. Now seeing the evidences, all those small scars, making her realizing how close he always had been to death. And probably will be again and again.  
"I am no warrior. I am a soldier. Soldiers fight to protect those who can't protect themselves. Mostly of warriors."  
"Then would you promise me to not play human shield in the future?" She looks up to him.  
Gentle he strokes a strand of hair out of her face, cupping her cheek then. "Do you want me to be honest?"  
She knows he will always be where the battle is the thickest. He will never flee from a fight. "No."  
"I promise."  
With a sigh, she lays her head again onto his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat. The proof that he lives, right next to her, with her.

"Are you sure that your father does not know about us?"  
"Of course I am. Why do you ask? Did he asked you for a duel?"  
"Of course not."  
Shortly she looks up into his face. Neatly groomed from head to toe. She smoothes the lapel of his jacket, binding his cravat while her maid smoothes her skirt. "Have you told him, Mary-Ann?"  
"No, mistress. I would never." She indeed did never told the Admiral about it in the first place. She only tells him how it's going on between his daughter and is godson.  
"See, no way he could know."  
"I am not sure. He told me yesterday that he hopes you will marry at some point, preferably when he's still alive. He also told me very subtle you would not be married as he called me in for your rescue. I don't know why he should tell me this if he hasn't something in mind concerning the two of us."  
In the moment she was finished with his cravat, fashionable bound how only women are able to, her maid was finished with her dress. "He is just concerned, that's all. Nothing to worry about."  
"When you say so..." He still thinks that his godfather is suspicious about the two of them.  
"And now go." She shoves him towards the door to the servants corridor. "I don't want to be late to my father's promotion."  
He turns around at the door, a wry smile on the face. "How about a goodbye kiss until we're alone again?"  
A smirk on her lips and a hand resting on her waist. The fingertips of her other hand gliding playfully down from his chest and then hooking into the waistband of his trousers to pull him closer. "Only because you have been such a good boy last night." She has to go on her tiptoes to press her lips onto his.  
"I can't wait to see what your reward will be when I am really good," he grins, pressing another kiss onto her lips until her maid clears her voice. He rolls with his eyes as he lets go of her.  
"Now go," she chuckles. "Otherwise my father will truly have a reason to be suspicious."  
He smiles and not without stealing at least one more small kiss from her lips he turns around and leaves through the door.  
"Mistress..."  
"I don't know how to thank you, Mary-Ann." Elizabeth turns around suddenly with a bright smile on her face. She takes her maid's hands into her own. "I am really thankful for what you are doing for me."  
Mary-Ann feels like a cold hand is twisting her guts and filling her stomach with heavy stones. The smile she wears on her face, the shining in her eyes, the happiness her mistress radiates... she will never understand how a man like the Captain is able to make her mistress happy, but he does. And the feeling to betray her has never been so strong before like just right now. "N-no need to thank me, mistress. I-I am just doing my duty."  
"And just so you know, you will have off for the late evening and the whole night," winks Elizabeth.  
"Thank you... mistress... I guess... I should thank the Captain. I never had so much off before... I don't know what to do with so much free time."  
Elizabeth giggles. "I am sorry, that I am not sorry."


	28. How small the colonies are

He is still suspicious about the intentions of his godfather. He urged them to sit next to each other in the carriage on their way to the ceremony hall, he refused to walk his daughter on his arm with the words that John would be more in the need of a pretty maid on his arm than he himself.  
"You are sure that he never mentioned towards you to set us both up with one another," he whispers.  
"Yes, I am and now shut it."  
Maybe they're really a bit too obvious by trying to be as not obvious as possible. But maybe it's really that he just wants her to be secured and he's young and at the beginning of a promising career and they know each other very well. Maybe in that case she wouldn't be as reluctant than towards a complete stranger.  
The Admiral would say yes to both of his godsons suspicions. And when he turns his head to look at both he freely admits that they look incredibly good on each others arms. Maybe when they're finished with Setauket, maybe then there'll be a wedding.  
She spotted a few known faces but for more than a smile and a nod or a little wave with the hand was no time left before finally the promotion ceremony started.  
Only afterwards as the ceremony was over and they were back at their mansion and welcoming the guests she found the time to properly greet her friend she already spotted earlier.  
"Oh, that must be the dashing Major Peggy told me about! You will like her, you have to, she's my friend."  
For a short moment he thinks that life is kidding him as Elizabeth drags him with her to introduce him to her friend and to see that the 'dashing Major' her friend speaks to is André. This big new world rather seems to have the size of Setauket. "Major André?"  
"Yes, how do you know?"  
"He's my commanding officer." Her little laugh makes him smile.  
"Oh, how small the colonies are."  
"Small indeed..."  
The two women greet each other like they would know each for years. Meanwhile the men just stand opposite each other. One with a big grin and a "Greetings, Major." and the other one tells by his facial expression alone that the man in front of him ruined his mood for the rest of the month.  
"Simcoe...", he simply nods shortly.  
"How small this world is, right?"  
"Right. Who would have guessed that the honorable and brave 'Godson John' the Admiral talks about is you..." He put two and two together that the woman who gave the Admiral a kiss on the cheek must be his daughter and that the man on her arm he knows unfortunately as Captain John Graves Simcoe is the Admirals godson. But Fortuna seems to be kind these days, not only can he see Peggy again without raising suspicions and compromising her, but also she is friends with the Admirals daughter. Perfect. Still he would prefer to communicate with the Captain only via written words.  
"What for a funny coincidence," grins Simcoe.  
"Thankfully I already know that you have a different sense of humor than most of us."  
"I know, mine is the funnier one."  
The Major rolls with his eyes and taking a glass of champagne from a tray by a passing servant only to empty it with one sip. He will need more of it if he intends to stay for a few hours under the same roof like the Captain.  
"Well, when the men know each other already... John, this is my friend Peggy Shippen, the best and most wonderful being the Colonies have to offer."  
"You mean until you came her," smiles Peggy.  
"What an honour to meet you, Miss Shippen." The Captain takes her hand in his, bowing a little to blow a kiss on said hand. "Friends of Miss Gwillim are naturally also my friends."  
"I keep that in mind," smiles the young woman.  
"Miss Gwillim, it is of course an honour to see your praised beauty in person. Your father can't stop talking about his beautiful daughter." He puts on his most charming smile for the handkiss.  
"Strange, he never lost a single word about you."  
Just for a short moment the Major lost control of his facial expression. And exactly to witness that leads the Captain to purse his lips to keep himself from grinning. These few minutes are pure gold.  
"Come, Peggy, we leave the boys alone. You still want to see my drawings? Come my dear." She links her arm with her friends and draws her with her, upstairs and into her rooms. Only with the door shut, she turns around.  
"I guess you don't have in mind to show me your art?"  
With a grin Elizabeth steps closer and pulls a key out of her sleeve. "As long as you won't occupy my rooms for the whole evening, you see, I don't want to waste time by having my John here, they are free for you and your Major."  
"Elizabeth! I am engaged!" It didn't sound as half outraged as it should be.  
"True, but you're still not married," she winks. "And should we let have the boys all the fun? Make the best out of it." With these words she turns around and leaves.

"The ridiculous rich Shippen daughter... are we not gambling a bit too high for someone born without money and title?"  
"The Admirals ward, how original."  
He shrugs with his shoulders and taking a glass from a tray. "Not original but solid ground." He takes a sip.  
"You show at dinner with her the same manners like you did with mine?"  
"She comanded grown men and trained soldiers around while being captured by the patriots. I wouldn't underestimate her, Major. Who thinks the daughters of military men are little delicate flowers never met such a daughter. You wouldn't see the dagger coming that's about to stick in your neck."  
"One thing you have in common..." The Major exchanges his empty glass with a new filled one. "So... you told the Admiral about Culpepper? I've heard that precautions are to be made, actions are planned."  
"That's true. But instead of simply burning that piece of waste of land to the ground a spy circle on its own is in work."  
"Spy versus spy... sounds entertaining."  
"It could go easier and faster."  
"Shooting every citizen and burning all down is not always a solution."  
"But mostly," the Captain replies with a shrug of the shoulders.  
To the Majors luck the women come back now and while Peggy approaches him with a promising smile is the other one dragging the Captain away. He would have probably turned into an alcoholic within minutes spending more time than necessary with the Captain.


	29. As if anyone else can look angelic like innocent

Now he can say that half of the Royal Navy and half of the Royal Army know the story of how he freed Miss Elizabeth Gwillim from those patriots hands. He has to admit, she is good with propaganda and making everyone believing that those twenty blue coats had been a whole legion and that, at the most five minutes, had been an hour long bloody battle in which he of course took the victory. He can't resist to watch her with a smirk. She should write war reports. She could make the biggest defeat looking like the biggest victory of the British Empire.  
"I have to admit, gentlemen, that it was by far more a small exchange of a handful of bullets than everything else," he replies as he is asked if he has anything to add to Miss Gwillims telling.  
"Don't be ridiculous, John! Don't play it down!" Softly she slaps his upper arm. "Go ahead and tell how that Major run like a rabbit on a hunt as soon as he saw you. Go on and tell how incapable they were, how you overrun them with only twelve of your men! How not a single one of your men lost his life. And even in that cold, dreadful winter night he was still gentlemen enough to lend me his coat to keep warm. It was terrible cold that night and the camp of the patriots was everything else than comfortable, the tea was horrible..."  
"I only did my duty. What would I be for a gentleman if I wouldn't have come to aid?"  
"A patriot."  
They broke out into laughter.  
"You like me becoming a Major, don't you," he whispers at her.  
"Don't you," she replies with a smirk.  
"You seem to be more eager about it than I am myself."  
"It took you five years to be promoted to Captain, you just lacked of a woman in your back. You think all of the men here deserved their ranks? Half of them got them only through their wives, through marriage, friendship, relatives or simply because a debt was open. Did father not promised you to make you a Major?"  
He did indeed, but in a few months and not right away like she obviously intends to.  
She grins as he stays silent.  
"I've read a few reports concerning your person, Captain."  
He turns his head towards General Cornwallis, who spoke to him.  
"I hope only the good ones," he smiles politely. And not the one where he was sent to Philadelphia doing paper work because he disobeyed orders of his commanding officer...  
"Impressive ones, I would say."  
He feels Elizabeth shoving her elbow into his side while taking a sip from her glass.  
"I think we need to talk. If you would excuse us, gentlemen?"  
He keeps his polite smile as the General walks with him into a neighbouring room, shutting the door closed.  
"To be honest," starts the General, "I've read all the reports concerning your person."  
Well... shit.  
"And to be honest, I am not a supporter of Major Hewlett. He lacks of will and a strong hand to take drastic measures."  
"That makes us two, Sir."  
The older one smiles. "Admiral Graves was speaking with so many compliments about you, I wanted to be sure that these are deserved and not only because of familiar bondages. I am truly impressed. Especially your capture by patriots."  
"They know nothing about torture, Sir. I can reassure you that. Bloody beginners."  
The General smiles, putting his glass aside. "And it wasn't the first time a few weeks ago that you encountered that Major Tallmadge?"  
Yes, Sir. It wasn't the first time. A former citizen of Setauket. Just like a few other patriots."  
"Washington's dogs..."  
"I wouldn't call them dogs, Sir. Dogs are loyal."  
The smile grows into a grin.  
"Said Major was also befriended with Judge Woodhulls son and with Mrs. Strong. Owner of the local tavern since her husband decided to go over to the patriots."  
"And that leads you to think that they all together spy for Washington?"  
"My personal belongings had been searched through and I know no reason other than to extract information out of my correspondence. I came to witness that always before our plans had been ruined, somehow and strangely Washingtons army knew what we would do, that Mrs. Strong uses to line up her clothes to dry in a very specific order. Only then and to no other times. I don't believe the Woodhull story about raiders who burnt their house down. And if so, then why did he return constantly to the ruins without the intention to rebuild? And I can't find an explanation why someone should dry non existing hay in the middle of the night."  
"Busy people in Setauket... so dutiful that they even dry hay that does not exist..."  
"Despite their strange relationships and like everyone had an affair with everyone..."  
"Then I am sure you're going to like to hear that we are going to investigate. I can't tell you about our spy, but you will get to know him when you return to Setauket. But you for sure already had the pleasure to encounter our spy."  
"I did? I am sure it will be a pleasure again," he smiles.  
"That's for sure," grins the General. "I wanted to inform you personally about this. You are going to work as a link between us and our spy. You won't take actions without our permission, unless there's a, let us say, code red."  
"What about Hewlett?"  
"If there is proof that he's compromised..." The General sighs.  
"Understood."  
"Wonderfull. Now that we cleared that matter, we should go back. I am eager what Miss Gwillim might to tell for other heroic stories about you, it would be dreadful to miss one."

"What was he discussing with you?"  
"Who?"  
"The General."  
"Which one?"  
She slaps him on his upper arm. "John!"  
He laughs lowly and continues with undoing the knots of his cravat, putting it over the backrest of the stool on her dressing table. The evening continued for a few hours before the party was finally over and the guests left and they withdraw for sleep. Only that he did not withdraw in his own rooms. He didn't knew anything about André and Miss Shippen and neither about Lizzies attempt to help their relationship. He wasn't even aware that these two vanished from the party for quite some time but it's anyway not his business. "There is only one that has really a lot to say."  
"Oh!" Excited she moves around him while he still continues to undress. "Did he say anything about a promotion?"  
Another low laugh. "No, why so eager? Maybe it's you who should be promoted to Major."  
"Don't make fun of me, John!"  
"I would never."  
"What did he say? Did he then say something about our own spy ring?"  
"What?!"  
Now it's Elizabeth who is laughing. "Oh John, did you think I wouldn't read the correspondence of my father? I know everything you wrote my father. So, what did he tell you?"  
He shouldn't be surprised... "Yes, it was about Setauket. And yes, he confirmed that as soon as I returned to Setauket a spy on our own will arrive."  
"How exciting! I wish I could be there! You need to write me everything! I bet it's the last thing they expect, to be spied on. Do you know who it might be."  
"No, the General didn't mention a name."  
"Too sad, I would have liked to know."  
With a crooked smile he watches her undoing her hair and dress. "Admit it, you would like to do it on your own." He knows her too well. He bets that she offered herself immediately as soon as she read that letter.  
"Well, yes. As if anyone else can look angelic like innocent like me."  
He laughs shortly.  
"Are you mocking me?"  
"No," he continues to laugh, stepping closer. He puts a hand underneath her chin. "It's just that I know very well that you can be everything else than an angel."  
"You say it like it's a bad thing."  
"Never with you." He seals her lips with his own, drawing one of those sweet sighs of her he loves to hear.


	30. I love you

Lying in his arms was the best way to spend and waste time. Just lying on the sofa in her parlour in his arms while he takes a nap. Luckily her father left the house already in the late morning so they don't need to be concerned to be caught. Her maid will stay silent and the remaining servants too. No matter what he claims, the war indeed has its tribute and tears at nerves and strength, otherwise he wouldn't take a nap at eleven in the morning on one of his rare days where he is off duty. And it's not because of the party last night. Elizabeth smiles as she looks up. Raising a hand, she gently strokes with her index finger from his temple to his chin. His low and calm breathing, the softening of his facial lines while he's asleep... And still his grip around her shoulder to hold her close is strong. She suggested to rest on the sofa, that he reads to her his precious dead romans, just like they used to years ago back in Devon. But suddenly he fell silent and resting with her head on his chest, she heard his heartbeat went lower. One arm and one leg dangling from the sofa, the book almost slipping out of his hand. Satisfied with what she sees she rests her head again onto his chest, listening to his breath and heartbeat. The most soothing and wonderful tunes she heard in a while.  
She doesn't know how much time went by as it gently knocked at the door and he suddenly sits up straight, through and through a soldier, almost knocking her against the backrest of the sofa. "Calm down... I'm sure it's just Mary-Ann," she murmurs, "Come in!" And she's right.  
"Mistress," Mary-Ann stands in the doorway not wasting a single glance at the man next to her mistress, "I only wanted to inform you that lunch is ready."  
"Thank you, Mary-Ann, we'll be there in a moment," yawns Elizabeth and stretching cat like while he glides with his hand over his face and pinching the back of his nose to wake up.  
"How long did I sleep?"  
She looks over the backrest to the fireplace and the clock resting on it. "Just one hour at the maximum." Mary-Ann already left again and closed the door.  
"Why didn't you wake me?" He bends down, taking the book he dropped and places it on the small side table. "You should have woken me." He's not supposed to fall asleep during the day while he reads. He's not supposed to fall asleep anytime during the day.  
"But you looked so peaceful and beautiful, how could I dare to wake you sleeping like that? You deserved that nap. So calm, just like a baby." She lays her arms around his shoulders and presses herself against his back. She sighs, kissing his neck. "My strong and brave soldier... you deserve a thousand naps."  
He turns his head with a soft smile, hands grasping hers. "Only when you accompany me."  
"With every single one of these," she whispers, smiling with the kiss he gives her. "And now lets go down, you need every good meal you can get here before leaving. I bet Setauket doesn't have to offer such delicious things."  
"The most delicious thing of all sits right now behind me and tries to seduce me again," he smirks.  
She giggles. "I thought we clarified that you're seducing me."  
"Oh no, my dear. You are seducing me."  
"No way. But we will discuss that later," she smirks while letting go of him, rising from the sofa. "Now at first lunch is waiting."  
"By 'later' you mean... in private?"  
"Is not everything we discuss 'in private'?"  
The tone in the voice with which she speaks those two words makes him smirking too. He follows her in rising from the sofa, smoothing his shirt before going after her to the dining room.

He admits that this one day doing nothing productive at all felt incredibly good. It was still better than being sent to do paperwork all day long... and it was even better that he could spend this day with Elizabeth and having her all for himself. Like this, with her at his side, he can imagine to not always be on his feet, chasing from dawn until dusk after rebels. Like this he can imagine to have a day, or a few days from time to time only for himself and her or maybe in the future, with his family. He enjoys this one day completely for he knows, in a few days when he's back in Setauket it won't stay this calm and relaxing. And heaven knows when he will see his beloved again, when he can be this intimidate with her. Probably in ages.  
What he desires more than having Setauket burned down, than to put a bullet between the cabbage farmers' eyes, than be given a proper rank, is what every other human being wishes to have. A family, a beloved one that loves him like no other does, that awaits his return home with anticipation and whom he can love with all his heart. And maybe someday having little toddler feet running around his house and calling him father, running into his arms when he returns home. Children who are in awe when he tells them stories, whom he can tuck into bed or watching them being cradled into sleep in their mother's arms. All of this he can imagine with Elizabeth. His sweet, loving Lizzie. Who will throw apples at him, who can bruise him with a pillow, who can blank his mind with a single kiss and whose embraces are simply the best in the world. He knows, he knows so well that those who don't know him as private as she does, would never believe he could carry such deep emotions for a single being. But there it is. They don't know him as she does. And for her he would move every stone in the world. She kisses and loves him for whom he is, with still knowing and having seen his other side. Having seen him breaking a comrade's face for just words he shouldn't have used in his presence. By all she understands best through her father that wars are a nasty and dirty thing and people have to do nasty and dirty things to get stuff done and to win. A war is bloody, a war is disgusting and there is nothing heroic about to have your guts spilled out in a foreign country in mud and dirt. She knows that a war is no bed of flowers.  
But at the same time she also knows that he would never hurt her. Never would he dare to lay a finger on her when she does not wish it. He hopes she knows, but he is almost certain. Would she trust him otherwise? Everything he ever did with her was never against her will and he does not have in mind to change it. Not now and not ever. Maybe... maybe it is time to go to her father. Maybe the time has come. To present himself from his best and to ask for her hand in marriage. If she indeed loves him. If she doesn't... well, the time with her was still worth it. Strange... He never heard her saying these words. Three little words. But to be fair, he never said them either. Such a small word for such a big emotion. Only words, but with so much meaning. Only a word, but used with so much care. He is sure. As he looks at her sitting opposite of him, enjoying her hot chocolate and smiling bright, he is sure. Hell, he is sure for five years now! He is sure since the first time she kissed him, since the first time she passionately grabbed his hair, breathed his name. Her and nobody else. The poor one he would have married otherwise, would have always lived in competition with a woman she would have never met, would have never truly been loved by him because of the other woman.  
He reaches out for her hand, grasping it and give it a soft squeeze. A gentle smile spreads across his face. With a question in her eyes, she looks up to him. That sweet irritated look on her face. The big eyes, the slight lifting of her eyebrows and the delicate fingers in his.  
"I love you," he simply says. Seconds of painful waiting, already getting slightly uneasy, until she returns the little squeeze of his hand and smiles back. Oh, what a smile, he could kiss it!  
"I love you too." As if it would be the most ordinary thing in the world to say, so naturally, with a smile that tells him that she kept those words for too long for herself and just waited to share them with someone. And he is the lucky one. How lucky he is, oh, he is so damn lucky. This day couldn't end any better. Well, there is one way how it could, he thinks as he stands up and walks around the table. Lifting her in his arms and taking the way to her bedroom.  
"But my chocolate," she giggles.  
"I know something sweeter than chocolate," he murmurs while silencing her giggles with his lips.


	31. I love you too

"How has it been while I was absent, Mary-Ann?" Late in the evening the Admiral returns home again. Over and over again, they went through how they are going to work in Setauket. When there are really patriot spies then they can't make any mistakes. Going through names, thinking about codes.  
Mary-Ann takes the cape of her master and putting it over her arm.  
"Your godson confessed his love to your daughter, Sir. He said 'I love you'."  
He sat down and was busy with getting rid of his boots as he suddenly stops with hearing that. "Excuse me?"  
"He said 'I love you' and she responded with 'I love you too'. Currently they're upstairs in her rooms celebrating... their love."  
That was unexpected. Yes, he played around with the thought and was eager to set these two up with each other, he knows about their affair, but that they do it completely on their own without him interfering that quickly... "They really confessed their love for each other?"  
"Yes, Sir. Just earlier this evening."  
"And nothing else?"  
"Just the confession of their love."  
His heart runs a bit faster than usual with these news and the thought that his darling little girl might marry sooner than he expected. 'Alright. Calm down, Samuel, a love confession only, no proposal.', he says to himself silently. No one says 'I love you' and makes a proposal right away. They still have time, they are young, maybe he wants to wait until he's promoted to Major at least. There is no one else whom he would like to give her hand in marriage more than his godson but... she is still his little girl. His darling Princess. The thought pains a bit to give her into another one care, that she will start a family on her own, that he will see and have her around himself less and less. Stupid to think like that. Both love each other, that's a good sign. A marriage of love, that's good, amazing even and so rare. They have the luxury to marry out of love and there is not a single reason that would speak against it. He wonders when they are going to tell him. He should worry about Setauket but currently he can only be so very happy for them. The two people, next to his wife, who are most important to him. The hope is growing that there will be a wedding this year.  
"Thank you, Mary-Ann. You can withdraw now. I doubt my daughter will need your service tonight," smiles the Admiral, "And neither do I. Good night, Mary-Ann."  
"Good night, Sir," she nods and turns around to leave.  
He is still astonished, surprised, by what his daughter's maid told him. These two, little lovebirds...

It was hard for the Admiral to act normal as usual and to stay silent on the next morning. He would like so much to show how happy he is for them, but then he would blow that he knew the whole time and he doesn't want to ruin the trust Lizzie has upon her maid. Though he expects every time when he is in his writing room that John would knock and asks for her hand in marriage. It takes all of his self control to not make the suggestion of marrying the two right away at them. Maybe he should give them some time. Maybe, maybe, maybe...  
"Father?"  
He looks up, trying to not look caught. "Yes, my dear?"  
"Are you alright?"  
"Yes, yes, I am sorry, my dear, I am just too deep in thoughts." He takes a deep breath. He should turn his attention towards his work again to stop acting suspicious. Still he wonders when...  
And he shouldn't wait for long. On the last evening, the last dinner that he will have in Philadelphia before returning to Setauket, John Graves Simcoe found the bravery to make a certain decision. And the following hours in the night strengthen him in it. Every kiss, every embrace of his Lizzie does so. Every gesture, every word underlined with desperation throughout the passion they shared. It whispered with every touch and screamed with every sigh. Almost caressed with every 'I love you' they shared. Just like the night before he left to fight a war in the colonies so many years ago. What for a fool he has been... He could slap himself for it. The biggest mistake he ever made and truly regrets is that he abandoned her letters. He could have held her in his arms much sooner, he could have been married to her for years now. Stupid bloody idiot he was. Out of hurt feelings and pride...  
Neither of them welcomed the morning that followed the night. Never before was it so hard for him to leave a bed. He would never give up his career, but it would be different if he could call her fiancée, wife. Something that it certain, he can be sure about, something official. It would be easier for him than with what they have right now. Nothing official, all in secret, always hiding. In the worst case the best he can call her is 'childhood friend'.  
Later she helped him so lovely to dress, so carefully. She brushed his hair, bound it in his neck so neatly with the sweet green ribbon she gave him. She even shaved him and it was probably the only time in his life that he stayed calm with closed eyes with a blade at his throat. The kisses he got afterwards were the best after treatment he ever had. How carefully, she smoothed his shirt and jacket, binding the cravat...  
"Would you do it every day? Would you mind," he asks lowly.  
"What exactly," she asks in return, brushing the curls in the neck that are his hair. After she dressed him she urged him to sit down again, brushing his hair since then. She grins by the thought of how curly his hair actually is. If they would have children together, there would be more curls than everything else.  
"All of this. Would you mind doing it every day in the morning?"  
"I've read once that in some cultures it was ordinary that the wife helps her warrior husband to prepare for battle. It was some kind of ritual and a way to show affection, how deeply she cared for him."  
Did she just implied that she would marry him? "So... would you?"  
"I wouldn't mind at all."  
He sees her smile in the mirror in front of him, sees her smiling while still brushing his hair. With a sudden jerk he rises. "I have to speak with your father."  
"Now?"  
"Yes, now. It won't be long. I'll be right back." She still looks startled as he gives her a kiss and then turns around to leave. His heart starts to beat faster, a cold and heavy stone lies in his stomach as he goes downstairs and stops in front of the writing cabinet of his godfather. Thank god he is not sweating... He wonders if Marc Anthony and Julius Caesar were as nervous as he is right now as they thought about to marry the most beautiful, fierce and smartest woman they knew. Probably not. Love is like a battlefield, like war, they say, and they have been through the thickest and who knows if love was even a part of it. He hesitates for a moment before he knocks at the door. As he was allowed to enter he gulps once, closing the door after he stepped in.  
"John, what can I do for you?' The Admiral looks up shortly from his writings. "Any last requests before you leave?"  
"Actually yes, there is indeed one last thing." A gesture at the empty chair in front of the desk tells him to sit down.  
"Tell me, boy, whatever it is."  
"It...it is a personal matter."  
The older one tries hard not to react at the smallest hesitation in his speaking. "Anything, my boy, you know that." Out of the corner of his eyes, he can see the nervous habit of him, the nervous gesture of his left hand. The only thing that tells if he is nervous or impatient. The index finger tipping a silent rhythm against the armrest.  
"I want to ask for your daughters hand in marriage." They are both men of the military, they both prefer it to be directly instead of hollow words.  
The Admiral stops now completely with writing, putting the quill aside as he looks up once more. "Excuse me?"  
"I, John Graves Simcoe, Captain of the British army, Commander of the Queen's Rangers am asking for the hand of Miss Elizabeth Posthuma Gwillim in marriage." He did it. There is no retreat now, only the anxious waiting for the answer. He takes a deep breath.  
"That's... a little bit surprising to be honest." To be honest, no. He is not surprised at all.  
"I know, Sir. I am sorry for troubling you with it now, Sir but I had enough time to think it through and I can promise that I am sure about it. I never before had been so sure about something in my life than about marrying your daughter, Sir. I don't know when I will be able to see her again and I don't want to make the same mistake twice."  
"So... two months are enough for you to consider a marriage? Did she hit you on the head with an apple," smirks the older one.  
A small smile grows on his lips. "No. I consider it for a few years by now. Since I left England, Sir."  
"And you only ask now?"  
"I knew back then you would decline my request. I was a simple soldier, no rank, only with the family fortune, just send off to a war far away. The possibility of making her a widow within a year was very high. No father of this world would have given me his daughter as wife if he truly wanted the best for her."  
"You carry it around with you for that long?'  
"You could say so."  
"Why should I consider it? I tried already once to marry her off and it almost ended in a tragedy. I am very careful about such things now."  
"I would never dare to hurt her in any kind of way. I will treat her with all the respect I owe to her, I'll be a good husband and she won't miss anything ever. Everything I'll do will be to make her happy and to keep her safe."  
"Do you love her?"  
"With every fibre of my being." He thought his godfather would say yes in an instant. This talk and waiting makes him indeed nervous. Was he too naive thinking the Admiral wouldn't hesitate to accept? Was he too sure about his own person? The stern look of his godfather doesn't make it better. It makes him only more nervous.  
"I will think about it. I'll let you know when I made a choice. But for now we have a more serious and important matter lying ahead of us."  
"Of course, Sir." He nods, but the stone in his stomach just grew heavier and doesn't get any lighter as he returned into his room. Stupid, bloody idiot, he cursed silently at himself.  
"Finished whatever you had to discuss with my father?"  
He looks up but turns his gaze away immediately. He wouldn't expect it but it hurts to see her now, to see the smile on her face, with the thought that her father didn't accepted his proposal. That he won't call her fiancée, that she might smile like this at someone else because he might not be the one she will exchange rings with one day, not being good enough for her in her father's eyes. "Yes. We did." He goes over to the bed and hastily finishes to pack his saddlebags, placing these over his shoulder and taking his hat. "I have to go now. I wasted enough time."  
"John..."  
"The war is not waiting, my dear." He avoids it to look her right in the eyes. He is mad and angry at himself for being so naive and so sure about his own person to think he would get anything from his godfather. Even his daughter.  
"Did father upset you?"  
"No, I did it all by myself..." He hears her steps and the rustling of her gown, the irritate tone in her voice.  
"John, wait!... Was it something I said?" She almost crushes with him as he suddenly stops and turns around to her.  
"No. Don't ever think that again. Whatever it will be, it won't be your fault. Never. I am only mad at myself."  
She puts her hands into her waist. "Well... you always had a tendency to madness."  
Despite his mood he has to smile. She works her magic on him again. "You know me so well..." He welcomes the kiss she gives him, feeling the smile that lingers upon her lips. With closed eyes he enjoys it until he drops his hat and bags to the ground to put his arms to better use. Placing them around her to pull her closer into a tight embrace, lifting her off her feet.  
"When will I see you again," she whispers, mere centimetres apart from his lips.  
"I don't know."  
"When will you return?"  
"I don't know."  
"What do you know?"  
"I love you. I know that and I haven't been ever that sure about something than by how much I love you." Her smile is worth every diamond that exists in this world.  
She leans in closer. "I love you too," she whispers into his ear. "Don't wait another five years to send me a letter or I'll go to Setauket myself and reopen every single scar of yours."  
"Is that a threat?"  
"Women never make threats. We make promises."  
"Would you also take my heart?"  
"Maybe."  
He turns his head slightly, lips almost touching. "Too bad. You already have it."  
"I do?"  
"You could devour me alive and I would say thank you."  
Her smile grows into a grin. "Then I should start with it right now." She presses her lips onto his, kissing him until she has to break the kiss to breath. "Can you not delay your return for an hour?" She leans her forehead against his.  
He chuckles lowly. "And one hour will grow to two and three and four and five..."  
She joins in the small laugh. "I am serious. You won't even have a day off on your birthday?"  
"That's no reason to be off duty, my love."  
She sighs as he lets her down again. She would like to hold him tight and to never let go again. Silly, she knows. As the daughter of an Admiral she should know better. Stupid heart... She knew the consequences of loving a man of the military. A constant letting go.  
"Lizzie..."  
"Go now. I'm just keeping you from doing your duty," she sighs, turning around, wanting to go down and picking his hat and bags up. But before she could do so he pulls her back into his embrace and holds her close, just holding her into his arms.  
"I will write you. I will think of you. I will take every cheap chance to come to Philadelphia to see you again and everyone who wants to keep me from doing so will have to duel me. You know how good I am at it."  
She giggles again. "Setauket would be soon empty."  
"I would gladly burn that whole place down for you."  
She looks up to him as if she would think it through, sneaking with her arms beneath his jacket and around his waist. "And I would like to watch you doing so," she smiles.  
His own widens into a grin. "You are perfect."  
"I know." She can't resist and joins into his laugh.


	32. As if he took your smile with him

His mood was even lower than his opinion about Setauket. He thought it might be impossible that it could even sink deeper, but it did as he entered said place. Just at that moment as he stepped off his horse and secured it at the post in front of the tavern with the intention to take a small rest in his room. Noises came out of the tavern, noises of a fight and before he even reached the door the cause of those noises stumbled out of it, followed by a mob, a wild mix of green and red coats. Only as they recognized him they came to silence and stopped cheering on the two fighting. As it becomes silent even those two stopped with punching their fists into each other faces and looking up the pair of boots in front of them and higher until they saw who exactly is the cause of the sudden silence. Immediately they let go of each other and stand up, knowing too well that it'll have consequences for all of them when Captain Simcoe caught them.  
"Captain," they both say breathless in unison.  
He doesn't even wait for an excuse. He grabs the Ranger by his collar and pulls him closer. "I thought I made my point very clear on my first lesson, Private. The times of Robert Rogers reign over the Queen's Rangers are long over so please explain me why you are still acting like an uncivilized wildling when you are a soldier of the King, hm?"  
The presence of the Captain always feels slightly threatening, but he clearly gives one shivers when he speaks with that low, hoarse, almost whispering voice and being very close to one while doing so. "Captain, I..."  
He lets go of the soldier, taking a step back and cutting him of with a single gesture. "Thompson," he says calmly, "I need a whip."  
"Yes, Sir!" Said Thompson hurries off to get the needed whip.  
"Take off your coat and shirt, Private. You know where to go to."  
He is clearly in a bad mood when he only addresses one with 'Private' and nothing else.  
"Five lashes should help you to remember that you're a soldier of the King. Lieutenant Harley, you are dismissed, but be sure that I'll report your behaviour to your commanding officer and I'll see that consequences are taken."  
"Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir." The Lieutenant couldn't walk fast enough to get away from the Captain.  
"Ah. Akinbode. I was already wondering where you have been in this quarrel."  
Slowly Akinbode steps out of the tavern and right away follows his Captain the way down to where they punish disobedience. "I made sure that these two are the only wild dogs with a quarrel."  
"Good man. Did they followed your orders during my absence?"  
"Yes, Sir. There had been no trouble except for now. But if I am not mistaken then it was a famous infamous cabbage farmer who started it. I saw him first talking with Lieutenant Harley and then with Private Deen."  
"Trouble could be his middle name, don't you think? Strange that he's never far away from where the trouble is..." And he would like to beat the truth out of him with his own hands.  
By the fist lash, Akinbode sees that the mood of his Captain was worse than he thought at first. Like this, five lashes feel like twenty. If Philadelphia didn't play out like he planned? Was the Admirals daughter not this into him like he thought she would be? He is for sure not going to ask him. He loves his freedom and new life way too much than to ask the Captain for the reason of his terrible mood. But he is sure anyway that it has something to do with Philadelphia and Miss Gwillim. Only a blind one wouldn't have seen the looks these two exchanged on the party and just by how much the Captain was distracted by her presence alone... He would also bet his freedom on it that the letter he had to deliver to her was one of the heart. Old love dies hard, they say. Here he guesses it only probably calmed down to a light ember and inflamed instantly again to a wildfire the night they got her out of the Patriots hands. This side of the Captain doesn't confuse him anymore. Nothing is only black and white. All is grey and often lines between good and evil are blurry. He only does what needs to be done. This is war and in a war it's always 'you or me'. Aren't they all act on orders in the end? He loves Abigail yet he too shoots and kills, it's his duty as a soldier. But they don't call him a monster, Abigail does not, it's something different with him, she says. No, it's not, he says. Those who call themselves Patriots kill and slaughter too, and they are called heroes. Bullocks. There's nothing heroic about killing and slaughtering. After their logic and of the citizens of Setauket they all have to be monsters. Citizens... mostly this Woodhull famer-in-his-dreams and Miss Strong are heating it all up. He dislikes the influence this Strong woman still has on Abigail. She drags her into things that will cost someone his head one day, he can feel it in his guts. The truth is she still owned them only as slaves, didn't treat them worse, but also not better than others. She owes her nothing. He is glad that she's at least away in Philadelphia now, about the distance between these women and that the Major she works for now is treating her well.  
"Where are you with your thoughts, Akinbode?"  
"Excuse me, Sir." Damnit. "I... thought about..."  
"Someone you have left in Philadelphia while you're stuck in a place like this here?"  
Sometimes, only sometimes, the one thing that gives one most shivers is that it seems like the Captain can read one's thoughts. Lying is useless, he will get to know the truth, may it through the nice or the ugly way. "Yes, Sir."  
"Welcome, Akinbode. We should found an exclusive club."  
"The Gentlemens Club of seperated hearts, Sir?"  
A low chuckle follows. Well, at least now he is not going to kill anyone with a single wrong look he gets.  
"That's a good idea, Akinbode."  
"Thank you, Sir."  
He rolls up the whip, turning to the other Rangers. "I hope this helped you all to remember whom you serve. I wouldn't like to repeat myself. Think of it the next time you're about to turn into a bunch of wild dogs."  
"Yes, Sir," they respond in unison.  
"You are dismissed." He turns to his second man in command while his other subordinates take their comrade and make sure that he sees a doctor.  
A nod and Akinbode follows his Captain back into the tavern where they sit down at a table.  
He puts the whip onto the table, taking slowly his gloves off that find a place next to the leather cord. "Any suspicious behaviour of our favourite citizens while I was absent?"  
"He went every day to the ruins of his own house, at least once per day, sometimes twice. He never took any supplies with him and never returned with any. They must live well from their fathers fortune when he can waste so much time with only staring at burned ruins and walking around them. Wouldn't you take at least once a carpenter with you when you say you want to rebuild?"  
He notices from the corner of his eyes how the Lady of the tavern shifts slowly closer to their table to catch anything they talk about and the cabagge boy in the corner looking at her, to them and back again. He suppresses a smirk. The tables will turn soon. 

"It is just as if he took your smile with him."  
"I am sorry, Peggy, I am no good company these days. It's stupid of me, I know. I must know best how it will be to love a soldier..."  
"The heart usually does not care what the mind says," she winks. "These are two entire different things."  
"It is still stupid," Elizabeth pouts, "I knew exactly and very well that he will leave again, yet I act like bloody Juliet craving for her Romeo. Thank god that he doesn't hear it, it would boost his ego..."  
"Would you rather be more like Lady Macbeth?"  
"We all know if then I would be either Titania or Cleopatra, a Queen this way or another."  
She laughs at her friend's words, she found her humour again. "Aren't we all Titania from time to time? Loving a fool? Or completely blind by love?"  
"I wonder whom of these is the fool you love."  
"Lizzie..."  
"I could arrange a few things you know."  
"Lizzie, really..."  
"What is your fiancé saying anyway to the circumstances that you are still amongst devilish Tories?" Elizabeth takes a sip from her cup, placing it down again and does not tear her gaze off her friend.  
"Well, he swears every time to free Philadelphia from your kind."  
"Didn't look last week like you wanted to be freed from the Tories," she winks at her.  
"You're the right one to speak of it."  
"I would never want to be freed from mine," she grins, "and in the matter of yours... I am sure I can arrange that you visit me for tea while father has guests and your Major is going to be one of them, as the commanding officer of my Captain, you know..."  
"You are full of mischief, my friend," she lowly laughs.  
"If destiny is not helping on his own, then we have to forge it for ourself."  
Both women turn their heads to the door as the man of the house suddenly enters, flipping through papers in his hands and obviously deep in thoughts. Only as he looks up, he sees their guest. "Oh, Miss Shippen, what a pleasure to see you. It's always a pleasure to welcome friends of Lizzie."  
"The pleasure is always mine to be welcomed here, Sir."  
"I am glad that Lizzie found such a good friend in you here."  
"Father..."  
"Nevertheless do I need to speak with you in private for a moment, my dear. If you may excuse us?"  
"Always, Sir."  
"But father..."  
"It's about John, my dear." He knew she would have a moment as he said his name, saw how she tensed.  
"Did something happened," was her first question as they were alone.  
"Something did indeed, but don't you worry, it's nothing you should be concerned about, he is alright. It is just... he asked me right before he left and I thought long about it and... I would accept it when you want to of course." It was hard to let the smile not widen into a grin as he saw the question in her face. "He proposed. John asked me for your hand in marriage. And I would gladly accept so if you do so of course."


	33. Happy Birthday, John

Of course he recognised that they seem to be pretty, actually very, busy, over at the house of Judge Woodhull. A guest is about to arrive, one that will stay for an unknown time, one that Hewlett will personally look after, had been asked for to give resident for the guest should be as safe as possible. The daughter of a comanding officer. An important one, a highly decorated one. Over and over again he went in his head through all names, all Majors, all Generals, but he remembers none of them having either a daughter or one that might be here and he really doesn't know why a young Lady should even think of Setauket as worth a visit. Except... this is the spy they talked about.  
He's not surprised that he hasn't received a message with instructions; it would bear too much of a risk. The spy herself will probably carry them around with her. He only wonders who it might be. He had only been asked to accompany the carriage from unsure passage straight through to the house of Judge Woodhull. And not by his godfather, not by the General. Only by André, just how the chain usually works, the commanding officer first in line. He doesn't know who sits in the carriage, it carries no insignia, no initials, all veils are pulled up, no names have been mentioned and the persons of concern had been already inside as he arrived with a small squad of Rangers. Probably to travel completely in disguise and the Patriots already proved to be stupid enough to highjack a carriage with insignias. Stupid because then they had to deal with him. The Tallmadge boy should know better by now.  
He can't say it with words, but something feels odd about the carriage. He is not sure what exactly it is but he has a strange feeling about it. Somehow something feels familiar about it...  
The lonely house can one see already from far away and the closer he gets the clearer he can see that really all came together in front of it to welcome the guest. The Woodhulls, Hewlett, Mrs. Strong and the servants too. It obviously only needs the words ' High commanding officer' and they all act like chickens who saw the fox. As if the King himself would sit in the carriage.  
The face alone of this local village idiot makes him want to punch it. Again and again. That one time he did so felt pretty satisfying. It's a miracle that he is even still alive and didn't accidentally killed himself...  
He gets off his horse and before Hewlett could even move to open the door and welcoming the guest, he does so. At the same moment he opens it, small steps unfolding to help the passenger to get out. But as he throws a glance into the carriage, he freezes for a second before he steps onto the ladder and leans in.  
"What are you doing here," he hisses.  
"Happy Birthday, John." Elizabeth smiles widely at him. "Am I not allowed to visit my fiancé?"  
"What?" Only then it rings a bell in his mind. "You are the..." Silently he forms with his lips the word 'spy'. She, send as a spy, playing his fiancée so no one would ask for a reason why she came here. And no one would be wondered when she talks to him. Close and intimidate. Of course, it was a simple solution.  
"Oui. And not only that. Father sends his regards." She pulls out a letter from her sleeve and giving it to him.  
Still in the same position he takes the letter, rips it open and unfolds it to read.  
 _My dear John, I am proud and glad to inform you that I accept your request of taking my dearest daughters hand in marriage. Though I have to admit that Elizabet is more glad about it than I am myself. I couldn't be happier, more proud of giving her hand, the responsibility to care of her, to someone else than I am with you. You and Elizabeth are my pride and joy; I couldn't wish for a better husband for her, a better son in law. Take good care for her for now until we meet again and discuss further plans. Please forgive me that I haven't told you sooner about both, but I thought it would be a very fitting birthday present for you._  
He stops reading and looks up to her. The smile coquettish and happy at once, anticipation speaks from her face and she seems like she can't hold back her happiness any longer. He needs a few seconds until the written words, their meaning, finally reached his mind. Slowly a wide smile spreads across his face. She accepted. His godfather accepted. She will be his wife. He really is going to marry her. "My fiancée," he whispers.  
"Your fiancée," she smiles in return.  
He forgets all manners for a second and leans in further, reaching with his hand for her neck and pulls her closer into a kiss. Deep and longing, as if to seal the written words. They were separated for too long, waited for too long and the last two weeks were a pure agony for him. He almost lost hope that his godfather would ever accept. And now here she is in front of him, calling him fiancé and not as an act.  
She sucks in air as they break the kiss, giggles lowly. "They are waiting, my dear."  
"They can wait a bit longer in my eyes." He ignores those in his back waiting, he ignores her maid that doesn't seems to be pleased at all with this situation.  
She grabs his hand, taking it from her cheek where it had wandered to. Smooth and soft leather, warm from his body heat. "Don't forget your trail of thoughts and keep it for tonight," she whispers.  
"I can hardly wait for it." Again he kisses her as if he would drown and she would be the air he desperately needs to breath. Until she places her hands on his chest and shoves him gently away. "Come at night, I'll get you in, this way or another," she whispers. Another small kiss before he finally draws back, stepping off and reaching out with his hand to help her get out. He just got news that her father and she accepted his proposal and now he should let go of her?  
With her hand placed in his she steps out and off the carriage, followed by her maid. A rising on her tiptoes and a kiss on the cheek with a wide smile is all he has to be satisfied with now. And holding her hand in his.  
Oh, he can't wait to see their dumb faces. It will be a moment to remember. But first he beams with pride and joy with Elizabeth walking at his side, his fiancée, his future wife, the future Mrs. Simcoe. He was good enough, in both their eyes. His godfather thought of him as good enough to become her husband, to give him his most precious treasure. Holding her hand in his in public, a kiss in public without being concerned with their secret could be revealed... what a wonderful feeling. He walks up with her to the front of the house where they are waiting, her arm linked with his, his free hand resting on hers. Little Lizzie, or should he better say Agent Gwillim? Right in front of them, he stops and he raises his voice. "Ladies and Gentlemen, I am more than pleased to introduce to you the future Mrs. Simcoe, Miss Elizabeth Gwillim." Just as he thought. Their jaws are almost hitting the ground. Disbelieve screams from their faces. If disbelieve or shock, he can't tell, probably both.  
"I am so delighted to be here," smiles Elizabeth, "My fiancé already told me so much about Setauket that I finally had to see it with my own eyes. Words are not enough to describe how thankful I am that you take me in as your guest. My father for sure is going to repay you very well for the trouble my arrival and stay must cause you."  
"But, Milady... Miss Gwillim... you are everything else than trouble. I am sure you're going to be an enrichment to this household." Hewlett steps forward, finding finally the right words after the first moment of shock, still this news was unexpected and irritates him. "Please be welcome, Miss Gwillim. We were all very excited. Of course I would never deny a request of Admiral Graves. It's an honour that he considered myself for your safe stay here." It was a surprise for all that first by all means Simcoe is engaged and second that the guest they give residence is his engagement. Why would anybody... so far he knows the family fortune of the Simcoes wouldn't be big enough to be a reason for marriage... The bell is ringing so loud he might get deaf. Of course. John Graves Simcoe. Admiral Graves.... He was so busy with everything else that he has not seen what's plain in sight. He is the godson the Admiral wrote about. The godson she is engaged to, the godson who is the reason for her visit here... The Admiral set up his godson with his ward...  
A block of ice settles down in her stomach and spreads through her body. A shiver runs down her spine. Anna Strong has a bad feeling about all of this. Not only because of the presence of Simcoe. It will be a riddle for her how that man can be engaged, how a woman could consider it, how a father could consider it unless they don't know about the disgusting character that man has. That poor woman... Well. she doesn't look this poor and the way she looks at him says somehow that she knows him very well. And still? And now they'll have his fiancée here. For days? Weeks? That means he'll be a regular guest here... She should probably move back into her own house... even the tavern seems to be a better place right now. Like that it would be only a matter of time until Edmund and Simcoe stab each dead at the dining table.  
The small shock will linger for days, she knows. It was too big of a surprise that the guest Edmund made such a fuss about, for it was the ward of an Admiral, revealed herself as the future Mrs. Simcoe.  
She makes a small curtsy, casting her eyes down as she's introduced. She looks up intro bright eyes and a gentle smile as her hand is taken and another one placed on hers.  
"Please, by all means, not so formal. I'll be just Elizabeth here."  
"Anna," she replies with a nervous smile. Edmund talked about returning to England, and if she would accompany him. If so... when she says yes... for sure she'll move in social circles that are ordinary for the woman in front of her. A stolen look up and down as she turns at Edmund again. Graceful and elegant are the perfect words to describe the look. Not a single strand of hair, not a single fold of the dress is misplaced. The hem of the skirt and cape are clean and not mended once, all fine fabrics, the colours bright. Not like she would wear the same garment over and over again every day of the year. Perfection.  
She looks at her own hands. Hers felt soft and smooth, the nails manicured, clean. Not like she would scrub the floor every day, carrying several cups with ale for hours every night. She lifts her head again as Simcoe approaches. The smile on his face arrogant and full of self conscious as he passes her. She throws a glance at Abe and he returns it. With Simcoe as a regular guest they'll have to be more careful than ever.  
A few moments later they learned that 'it looks warm and lovely' is upper class for 'this is a disaster and I wish to be somewhere else, this whole place needs an interior designer'.  
Well, at least the women can't completely disagree and one like her is for sure used to more and different luxury than what they think of it. Luxury for them is to not rise up with the first ray of sunshine in the morning and having heated water for a bath. Luxury for her kind is probably sleeping until noon and drinking a bubbling beverage for breakfast. They know already what will be served for dinner. Quails. Her favourite dish. No chickens, it had to be quails. Neither of them ate these ever before, except the Tories in this house.  
Perfect, thinks Elizabeth as she is shown her room, her luggage is brought in and she takes a look outside the windows. Well, the interior isn't but staying on the first floor, to the back of the house and a small projecting roof underneath the window that shields the entrance to the basement, are perfect. Makes it easier to sneak someone unseen in and out and also to do so herself when needed.  
"The Admiral wrote that you, Milady, would practise the art of painting and to make it most comfortable for you I thought this room to be the best, it has indeed the nicest view."  
She turns around to the Major; her father thought of everything. "Oh, it's just a little bit playing around with colours, nothing more, Sir."  
"Do't be so modest, my love."  
She can see how very satisfied, how much he enjoys it to call her like that in public.  
"You are pretty skilled in that art."  
"The great masters would have still laughed about me, no matter what my fiancé might think of my works," she smirks.  
"Even DaVinci only started with scrabbles and Michelangelos women look like he has no idea how women look like."  
She giggles at his words. "You only say so because I am your fiancée."  
"I say so," he steps closer, taking her hand into his and blowing a kiss onto it, "because I love you, my moon and stars."  
"My heart and soul," she replies.  
Anna Strong suppresses a shudder of disgust hearing such words with the voice of Captain Simcoe.  
"I think I might get sick when I have to listen more to it."  
The whisper of Abe expresses what she feels in this moment very well. "Who would have guessed it. Not in my worst nightmares I dreamed this to happen."  
"Hewlett never mentioned it?"  
"No."  
He takes a step back again as he feels at first the stern look of his wife, and turning his head, also sees her staring at him. Caught he casts his eyes down and swallows once. From today on he probably won't be able to take a single step unseen in this house.


	34. King Arthur

"That's the incompetent Major you talked about. Is he always so nervous?"  
"Show me a man who isn't in your presence."  
She laughs lowly and slaps playfully his arm. "Was that a compliment? This day will go down in history as the day John Graves Simcoe made me a compliment."  
"You act as if I would never do so."  
"You never did without any intentions," she smirks.  
He bends down to whisper into her ear. "I can show you my intentions when we're alone."  
"Go on when you want to shock more citizens here. They at least look pretty shocked. In fact, all around us do so. What did you do with them that they are so disturbed by the sight of a beautiful woman at your side?"  
"Must be because it's the most beautiful woman that ever set foot in this town.'  
Again she giggles. "When you really want a scandal, let me help you." She goes on her tiptoes and with her hand on his cheek she turns his face towards her, kissing him.  
"We'll be the gossip topic number one," he grins.  
"Let them chatter, these poor fools... And just wait for dinner. It will be so much fun."  
"To see their dumb faces when you call me fiancé, yes indeed."  
"We should be so sweet and charming that they'll get toothache from all that sweetness."  
"I won't have a problem with that."  
"Me neither," she grins, "Was this the reason why you had to talk with father so urgently?"  
"Yes. When did he tell you?"  
"Three days ago. Asking me at the same time to do this here."  
"Did they gave you a codename?"  
Once more she goes on her tiptoes to whisper into his ear. "King Arthur."  
He looks at her in question.  
"Who would expect a woman behind that name?"  
"Someone really had the right ideas," he smiles. "You want to tell me how you want to get to their secrets?"  
"They look like they are easy to impress. I traveled through land and sea, have been at the Kings Palace..."  
"They are all probably Patriots and you want to impress them with your father have been invited to the King?"  
"Have you seen the look of Mrs. Strong she gave me? Trust me. By the way... Is there something going on between her and that Major?"  
"Without doubt. What do you have in mind," he asks with a grin on his face.  
"Just wait and see." Lovingly she's patting his arm. "I'll be the cutest, most humble guest they can imagine. People tend to trust nice persons with a beautiful smiling face. And when that won't help I'll tell that you're cruel to me."  
"What...?"  
"They seem to not be very fond of you and by saying that, they'll think I am on their side. And in fact you are cruel to me from time to time."  
"When was that?"  
"You kept me waiting five years. I call that cruel."  
He calms down again, shoving the false accusations aside that aren't meant to be honest. "I am truly sorry for that. I'll make up for that."  
"How do you want to make up for this?"  
"Wait until we're alone."  
"You always say 'until we're alone '. The night would last for the minimum three days by all the promises you make. You make big words, my dear."  
"We'll I can't do all those things in public with you, otherwise we both would end up in jail." He lures a giggle from her with these words.  
After the introduction, he took her with him into the town, showing her around. Or more likely boasting around with her, with the beautiful woman walking at his side and not getting tired of calling her fiancée. Now he leads her along the coast. On this day the weather and the sea are calm and they could talk without anyone else might listen. From far away it would look like two lovebirds on a stroll.  
"You were right,"she sighs, "it is the most boring place in the world. I complained about Philadelphia, but this here is a lot worse."  
"You will have to get used to it now."  
"Hopefully not for long. You don't have the intention to stay here, do you?"  
He laughs lowly. "Don't you worry. I can't get away fast enough from here as soon as we are finished here. I've heard that Canada should be a nice place to live."  
"As long as you won't stay here..."  
He enjoys the walk with her. Sure, the place could be better, the weather and view too, but he can openly walk with her at his side not as friends or simply because he's a gentleman and guides her, but as lovers. He can lean in closer, her can hold her closer and it's still proper through the engagement. "Have you got any instructions?"  
"Only verbally. No danger that the letter could be stolen. You told father that your correspondence had been searched through?"  
"Yes indeed." They maybe thought he wouldn't have noticed, but it was utterly stupid to open first the secret floor of his secretaire and second, also misplacing it when he usually is the only one with access to that box. "What about a code?"  
"What about it?"  
"A code for writing? To send letters? With informations?"  
"Why should I do so? I thought I simply tell you everything." She laughs lowly with his facial expression. "Trust me, if they catch a letter they will stop reading after the first lines I only wrote about how deep in love I am with you."  
He stops and turns to her with a grin. "Then I will help you to have enough inspiration for your written words." He bends down, leans in closer and lures a sigh from her lips with the kisses he gives her.

"Enlighten us Miss Gwillim, the curiosity is burning within us all how such a charming young woman can end up..."  
"With him?" With a wide smile she gestures at John by the question of the master of the house.  
"Well, I wanted to say 'with a man of the military'."  
"Darling..."  
"You have to admit, my love, you are only charming when you want to be while I was born with charm."  
"But not with modesty, obviously..," he murmurs and turns his attention to his meal again.  
"We grew up together, more or less, it is really that simple. With my father being his godfather at the same time it was natural that we spend quite some time together and after all those years, it was unavoidable that we fell in love with each other. At least it was unavoidable for him. I had to think about it first."  
"Of course, my dear. Because how could I have ever resisted the charm of yours you were born with? There was never an escape for me," he smiles at her.  
"Never," she replies with a grin.  
"I speak for all when I say that... this engagement is surprising for all of us. The Captain never mentioned you."  
"I am a very private person and I don't know what my status of relationship has to do with my duty here. Maybe I don't 'look' like someone who would be engaged, but with all due respect, Sir, your son doesn't look like the son of a judge either."  
"That's true... he doesn't..." A judging look earns the son from his father. Sadly that's true. He doesn't look like a cabbage farmer either. Nor like a respectful husband. Never anything in a whole.  
"Miss Gwillim, Milady," the Major clears his throat as the mood at the table endangers to become frosty, "it sounds pretty exciting to be the child of such a great man like your father, the Admiral is."  
"Adventurous, heroic stories are always exciting, just like being invited by the king, but to spend weeks on a ship, as a young woman, especially with nothing but the sea and sky as view is everything else than that."  
"You poor thing, my dear."  
"I know, right? But the thought of being in the arms of my fiancé helped me to get through all of these boring weeks."  
"Hopefully you don't get disappointed after marriage."  
Elizabth turns her attention to Mrs. Woodhull. She looks exactly like life and marriage have been truly disappointing her constantly. Poor thing. Before she could answer her hand is taken by John, a kiss blown onto it. "I would do everything to not let this happen," his eyes only resting on his Lizzie, his smile only a gift for her. "And if she would like my heart to be served on a silver plate, then she should get it." He can hear a faint murmur of the cabbage farmer that he would serve as first everyone's else heart and decides to ignore it. There will be plenty of opportunities in the future to pay him back.  
After the dinner was finished, after she said Goodnight to John, Elizabeth counted the minutes until she could retreat herself, excusing the early night for her with being tired and exhausted, the travel was long the whole pure excitement. Of course and understandable everyone said. They wished a good night, she shouldn't hesitate to say when she misses something. With the door closed after entering the bedroom, she sighs. The difficult task will be to play their friend to gain trust. Already now she knows that she will be bored to death here. She will ask Mary-Ann tomorrow if she could have got anything out of the servants. Servants love to gossip all day, the only thing that keeps them entertained during the whole day of work. At least she knows now that the stories John told her about this place seem to be true.  
With a grin on her face, she steps to the window as she heard muffled noises, opens it, and not too late nor too early to help her fiancé inside who never left, but was just waiting until he could see a light burning in her window to do the Romeo who climbed onto Juliets balcony.  
"Finally," he takes a deep breath as he's inside. Not everyday he's climbing up the façade of a house. "I thought they would never let you go."  
"I couldn't say that my fiancé was waiting for me," she grins. "But don't let us waste more time, I can't wait to kiss my fiancé."  
"I'll never let you wait again."  
The grin stays on her lips as he kisses her, putting her arms around his shoulders and doesn't have in mind to let go of him for the next hours.


	35. It was the nightingale and not the larke

"It was the nightingale and not the larke."  
A low chuckle follows her tired murmur. "Are you going all Shakespeare on me now?"  
"Will it keep you here?"  
"No." Another chuckle as she softly hits him in the chest. "I would like to but I can't. I can't come out of your bedroom for breakfast."  
"You can, you just don't want to."  
A lovingly smiles grows on his lips with the sulking tone in her voice. His fingers barely touching her skin while drawing invisible patterns on it. "I want to but I can't, you know it. Though I would like to see their scandalised faces when we come down together."  
It lures a little laughter from her. "Please... stay."  
"I should be gone by dawn."  
"You should never be gone..."  
"Lizzie..."  
"John."  
He sighs. "My love..."  
"I know, I know... Duties here, duties there. You have your orders, I have mine. The mission et cetera." She lets go of him and rolled onto her other side, turning her back at him. Now she can hear a sigh from him, hearing and feeling how he left the bed.  
"Always think that it won't take long until it is perfectly proper for us to leave the bedroom together."  
"Not long?" She turns around again, watching him dressing. "It will take at least a whole year! You can't ask for my hand in marriage and expect me to wait a whole year until we get hitched! Son of a gun..."  
He smirks. She really is the daughter of a man of the sea.  
"You shouldn't curse so much downstairs."  
"I curse when and how much I want."  
"And I bet you could beat every soldier in town in it." He smirks at her while continuing. "You still should hold back."  
"They really don't like you, right? I think they will treat me anyway, like I am mentally ill for being in love with you. At least they look at me like that."  
"Don't listen to anything this Woodhull idiot says. He is an idiot, traitor, lier and adulturer."  
"I thought so... Mrs. Woodhull doesn't look that happy..."  
"Promise me to not turn bitter once we're married."  
"Depends on what your intentions are," She smirks, looking up to him as he comes to bed again, leaning towards her with a knee on the mattress. She leans into his touch as he lowers his voice to a whisper.  
"To love you with all my heart, serving it to you on a golden plate when you demand it. To stay true, to treat and love you that even Venus will be jealous of you."  
"Sounds good," she smiles, "What about children?"  
"How many do you want?"  
She giggles lowly. "All of them."  
"Your wish is my command."  
She kisses him eagerly before he could draw back to continue with dressing. "I fear that the day will be horribly boring without you."  
"You will survive it."  
"But they are so boring!" With a dramatic gesture she falls back onto the mattress.  
A low laughter follows by him. "Drop unconcious like that when they bore you too much."  
"Maybe I'll do so."  
"You only need to get them to tell you what we need to know and you're freed from this. You knew when you said yes."  
"Yes... but you never told me how terrible dull these people here are."  
"I did tell you."  
"You said it's the most boring place on earth."  
"And what do you expect then from its citizens?" She groans annoyed and amuses him with that. "You're a big girl, my love, you'll survive this."  
"And if I don't?"  
"You will," he smiles.  
She looks up, seeing him almost finished with dressing and leaves the bed herself, wrapping the blanket around her body. "I'll only do so when you'll come more often over for dinner." She's fixing his cravat, grooming his hair. "And stay for the night."  
"You want to see how far their patience goes?"  
"Maybe. Or maybe I am just full with longing for you."  
"Will you slowly decay with yearning," he whispers, bending down, their lips almost touching.  
"Will you?"  
"Every hour we're apart."  
"Every minute you're not with me."  
"You'll be Venus in my writings."  
"Then I'll mention you as Mars. You and your dead romans," she smirks.  
"They have been loyal to me so far."  
"Not as loyal as I was."  
"No one can be as loyal as you are," he smiles, putting his hand onto her cheek.  
"I know." And that she knows it very well speaks from her smile and eyes and the kiss she seals his lips with.  
"I need to go now," he murmurs, being held back by another kiss.  
"Just one more minute..."  
"Now..." But it needs a few more moments before he follows his own words and lets go of her lips. Walking over to the windows he opens the one he entered through only a few hours earlier.  
"Come at least over for dinner. I say I've invited you."  
"Then I won't make any plans for the evening," he grins while already climbing out.  
"As if you could make any plans for a fun night here..." A last kiss she gives him before he climbs down, a blown kiss and he turns around, vanishing into the dark and out of her sight soon. With a heavy sigh, she closes the window and goes back to bed. It's a sheer agony in her eyes that she'll have to wait so long until she'll be his wife. An agony because she's impatient, she can't wait for ending all this secrecy between them, the sneaking in and out. What for a pleasure it will be when she can wake up next to him, keep resting next to him and preparing for the day together with him. Damn this modesty. Damn these silly rules of society. She would marry him in an instant, why would be that called inappropriate? Elizabeth shoves these thoughts aside to replace them with John, with pleasurable thoughts, before she falls back to sleep.

Back in his own room in the tavern he immediately opens his secretary box, searching through the hidden and secret second back where he keeps his very personal things. Not long and he found what he was looking for. A small box, only big enough to give space for a small token, a ring. The only thing he took with him from home that is family inheritance. It belonged to his mother, his aunts told him back then. It was her wedding ring, the ring his father gave her and before belonged to his mother and so on. The little bit of hope concerning to marry Elizabeth one day never really died. It was more wishful thinking. So he kept the ring and took it with him, luckily. He takes the ring out of the box and turns it between his fingers. Now he can give it to her, a real thing. A real engagement that will turn into a marriage. "Absence parts hands, not hearts," he murmurs while reading the inscription on the inside. So true and so well fitting. Well, all the men in his and also her family have been in the military service for the king. Fitting so well... So often absent in body, but never in mind. She deserves more than a simple golden ring, but it will serve well at first, it has to and he knows she would take even one braided from grass as long as he is the one to slip it over her finger. As long as it is a ring coming from him with a promise. A small token that will mean so much more for both of them. She will carry a visible promise from him. A promise she can show around, that will tell all she'll be his and he'll be hers.  
By now it really sinks in. He is going to marry her. His godfather, and Lizzie too, accepted his proposal. Only after a few weeks of reunion. The ring speaks truth. They were never really apart. It took a smile, a kiss and it was like the past five years never had happened. That's a good sign, right? That must be really love, right? He would like to say just like Mars and Venus, but the more he thinks about it, he has to give the old Greeks this time the honour. Just like Hades and Persephone. That was really love. No tricks, no deceiving, to cheating, no lying. The King of the dead could have done all of this to keep her, but he didn't because he simply loved her. And she returned his love with such a passion and honesty...  
He puts the ring back and stops all his thoughts about it. He needs a little bit of rest before a new day starts. Although he knows that she will follow him into his dreams.


	36. We just can´t trust men with interior design

"Maybe you should sleep actually at night, mistress," comments Mary-Ann as her mistress's yawns for the fifth time this morning while she does her mistress hair.  
"How can anyone expect me to sleep when I have my fiancé in my arms..."  
"To spare your fiancé for a night?"  
"I will have to often enough in the future. Especially when we're married... Who can say if we will even stay in the same country? So of course I take every little chance I can grasp with my hands to keep holding him in my arms. We both are from families that inherit the military... None of our fathers survived long enough that we could get to know them... It can happen every day, every time. Can anyone blame me for it that I want to have as much as possible of him as long as I can? Maybe being married is the only thing we can share. Maybe there won't be enough time left for us that we can build a family. Maybe when we are blessed he won't last long enough to watch it taking its first steps... Maybe it is even me that won't see it taking its first breath..."  
"I am sure that you will have all the time the world has to offer, Mistress. And as many children as you wish."  
"May God hear your words," whispers Elizabeth. She knows that he won't back down as a husband and neither when becoming a father. She will always find him where the fight is hot, in the eye of a storm and the middle of a fire. "Who can say if I am not a widow before marriage? There are still months ahead of us."  
Mary-Ann sighs and shortly stops in her doing. She despises him. She does not like him. She thinks of him as wrong from head to toe. But her opinion does not matter. "Mistress, he made it five years now. He would be stupid to be careless now with the opportunity of marrying you. And I have to admit that your fiancé is not stupid at all."  
A small smile plays around Elizabeths lips. "He is not, that's true."  
"Now we should finish you, mistress, and bring some elegance into this house."  
"Oh, this house needs a lot of it, the whole town needs a lot of it."  
"When you can even call it town."  
"A random collection of houses would describe it better. I feel totally misplaced here with my dresses..."  
"Even without them you are misplaced here, mistress. It is a waste..."  
"Not when I can call them out as traitors and spies and can live happily ever after with my prince."  
"And you think you can achieve that by inviting your fiancé every evening for dinner?"  
"We are freshly engaged, who would be suspicious in that case? And through the day I'll play the most charming and loveable young woman they have ever met. After all, I am just a woman, right? A little spoiled posh woman from England, spoiled rotten by her father and with no other interests than fashion and art... A little stupid woman... blinded by love too. We will see who is naive and blinded." She looks at her reflection, satisfied with what she sees. "Wonderful," she whispers.  
"I talked with the kitchen staff, mistress." Her maid grabs the jewellery casket and opens it and choosing a pair of earrings that will fit her mistress' dress for the day.  
"Could you get something out of them?"  
"They love to gossip more than anything else." Mary-Ann pulls a stool closer and sits down. "Mr. and Mrs. Woodhull are a very troublesome couple. She was first engaged with Mr. Woodhulls brother. Mr. Woodhull, to quote, 'had a thing going on' with Mrs. Strong, Mr. Woodhull senior didn't like it. After the older Woodhull brother died the younger one married the fiancée of his brother."  
"Judged by her looks he didn't cut off his relationship to Mrs. Strong, I guess?"  
"They still had and have an affair. They saw them several times together, intimidate. Mr. Woodhull tried himself to be a cabbage farmer..."  
"Really? When he could have for sure followed into his father steps? Poor Mrs. Woodhull..."  
"In a small house outside with almost nothing to harvest, yes. They said he was a miserable farmer, and husband, not even the house was really something they could call house. It was so bad that she had to come here as their son got sick. He wouldn't have survived in their home. It burned down, mysteriously. But they also said to witness how he almost on a daily basis goes out there with nothing in his hands and returning with nothing. They also said how highly inappropriate it is in their eyes to see him with Mrs. Strong, who is still married to a man who went over to the patriots and only stays in this house by the personal invitation of Major Hewlett."  
"Personal invitation? Oh... Mrs. Strong and Major Hewlett. All under one roof. It seems I entered a snake pit..."  
"But a very useful one, mistress. None is a saint, all are sinners you could play against each other. They also mentioned that Mr. Woodhull seems to be a real troublemaker and praised the time as he didn't live here, it was way quieter without him, they said."  
"John said something similar," she murmurs.  
"He also obviously does not work on a regular basis, at least he does not bring in any income."  
"Suits his look... thank you, Mary-Ann, I'll keep that all in mind."  
"I'll try to get more out of them. They were pretty talkative a least."  
"And I am going to see if the ladies here are as talkative as the servants."

As Elizabeth walked down, she wasn't surprised to see that everyone else is already awake. Though she only sees the women at first, preparing with a single servant the dining room and breakfast. She imagines that at least the Major and the Judge, similar to her father, already work through their correspondence in these early hours.  
"Can I be of any help," she asks as Mrs. Woodhull hurries through the dining room, her son in one arm and a bowl, she hopes it is porridge, in the other one.  
"No, Ms. Gwillim, you are our guest. Please, take a seat if you wish to."  
"Well, when I can´t be of any help with the breakfast, then maybe... I can be of help with your son? It doesn´t look easy to prepare everything with a child on one arm." She puts on her most loveliest smile to wipe all hesitation in Mrs. Woodhull away and leaving the boy to her. She takes him into the living room, sitting with him onto the floor in front of the chimney. Pretty quickly she found out that little Thomas was not much of a talker, compared to other children who can´t stop babbling as soon as they started. She also found out it was pretty hard to keep the boy entertained and she doesn´t know if it is because she maybe can´t handle three year olds or if it is because of whom his parents are. At least she didn´t saw them yesterday talking or doing anything much with the boy, except his mother carrying him the whole time... out of the corner of her eyes, she can see the Major entering and stopping in surprise to see her on the floor with the Woodhull offspring.  
"Oh, Miss Gwillim, good morning, Milady. I hope you had a pleasant night?"  
"Pleasant it was, indeed," she smiles and accepts the hand he helds out to help her back onto her feet again. With the boy clutching her other hand, she is led back into the dining room. "I am so thankful for the warm welcome and how nice everyone is despite the circumstances of who my fiancé is."  
"But Miss Gwillim..."  
"Sir Hewlett," she smirks, "I have eyes and ears, none here seems to be very fond of my dear fiancé and that is alright. I admit that he´s a complicated man and except of my own person, hard to love. We are all different, right? It would be terrible if not."  
"I have to agree, Miss Gwillim, it would be pretty boring otherwise," he replies with a smile.  
"We are all different and the same at once."  
"That was wisely spoken, Miss Gwillim."  
She turns her head and sees that the judge too entered the dining room. "Good morning, Sir and thank you."  
The boy is taken by his mother again and sat down, everyone has taken their seat now.  
"Aren´t we missing someone?"  
"My son left already."  
"He must be a hard working man, your son." The cough that follows from the judge says that it must be quite the contrary. Just like Mary-Ann told her. He leaves early, comes back late and no one knows where to.  
"Miss Gwillim, I am sorry, we don´t have a lot of excitement to offer here," he changes the topic, "Once a week a few friends of Mary come over. It must be pretty boring for someone like you."  
"For someone like me?" She smirks and putting down her spoon. "Judge Woodhull, the world has generally not a lot of excitement to offer on its own for us women. We have to take them on our own, if some like it or not," she smirks. The other two women at the table stop in their doing and looking up to her. "When men think that stitching is exciting then they never stitched at all. Men always think we are delicate flowers. I´ve grown up in a family of military men, I can tell you, Sir, I am everything else than a delicate flower. I had been captured by rebels and what should I tell you, they danced when I told them to do so. Don´t worry for me and having excitements here. I´ll find them on my own. And speaking of excitements, I am sorry that I did so without asking for your permission first as master of the house, but... I invited my fiancé over for tonights dinner." The one second of silence and hesitation is enough for her to know that the judge too obviously does not like to be in the presence of the Captain.  
"It is alright, Milady," he nods. "You are freshly engaged, deep in love and he´s a well-known and trustworthy face for you in a crowd of complete strangers. He... for sure is a little piece of ´home` for you. I don´t mind at all, Milady. He is just as welcomed here as you are."  
Before she can thank him the other temporary guest is interrupting them.  
"Speaking of your fiancé, does he know about your tongue?"  
"Oh, he knows my tongue very well and tends to praise it," she grins at Mrs. Strong and is satisfied to see her blushing deeply.  
The hardest part about the whole espionage thing for Elizabeth is to gain their trust at Whitwhall. To smile the loveliest smile whenever someone is around, to offer her help wherever she can, to not look suspicious when two are talking with each other and it happens suddenly that she is around or enters the room, to play with little Thomas and only talking about the weather, the nice coast and her paintings. She wonders in the late afternoon if Mrs. Woodhull ever leaves the house, it seems like she never does, in Elizabeths eyes. Mrs. Strong has her tavern, half the day she is going to be absent. The Major has his duties, the Judge spends of his time in his writing cabinet and Mr. Woodhull... Well. It makes it harder for her to look for suspicious correspondence with someone constantly around. But it is only the first day, she has to remind herself. Rome wasn´t build within a single day either. For her days at Whitehall and especially Setauket her only rays of sunshine will be the evenings, the dinners with John and later the nights with him. He would tell her that it is only her first day at Whitehall and that she shouldn´t be so impatient. Although it would boost his ego because she thinks the sooner they busted the spies the sooner she can marry him. She can almost see his smug grin and hear his voice, slightly mocking her. She has to grin on her own by that thought.  
"Happy thoughts?"  
She looks up from her scribbling and at Mary Woodhull, who sits opposite of her close to the chimney and stitching on a piece of fabric. "Yes, my fiancé crossed my mind." She short twist of her mouth says that she doesn´t know how these can be happy thoughts.  
"I hope for you he´ll keeps you entertained with happy thoughts even in marriage."  
"I am sure he will, Mary," she smiles, "We marry at least in love. Hopefully your husband will return some happy thoughts to you too. And if not, you have at least your lovely son." Speaking of her son relaxed the women in front her and a smile at last brightens up the face. "I hope to be blessed one day too with motherhood."  
"A child will be at least always your child and you´ll be always his mother, no matter what..."  
They are interrupted by Mary-Ann bringing them fresh tea and a few sweets.  
"I have read about what happened to your family, how cruel human beings can be to rob a small, merry family and burning down their house. Have they captured those demons at least?" There was something in the way her opponent shifts in her seat that tells her something about the answer she will give her is not right.  
"No. Not until today."  
Short answered... "What a luck that Whitehall is big enough and your father in law took you in. I imagine that it is here way more comfortable for a winter," she winks.  
A small noise of suppressed giggle. "It is," smiles Mary.  
"You look like a fine women, Mary, I can hardly imagine you in some kind of shed outside of the town. You look... as if you always belonged to Whitehall."  
"Thank you... Well, to be honest... this place really needed a woman."  
"We just can´t trust men with interior design," she winks and both women laugh.


	37. Even the war would wait for you

"Excuse me the question, I am just curious, but... I wonder how such a pleasant character like you could fell for our Captain."  
"I don´t wonder at all, I mean, he looks quite dashing in the uniform."  
"Most men do so, Catherine, there is no magic with that."  
She gives them her lovely smile and does her best with stitching a handkerchief. She and the two ladies of Whitehall plus the three daughters of the higher society of Setauket of men the judge is friends with. It´s their stitching afternoon. So she´s stitching despite how much she despises stitching.  
"Well, if you could take off your eyes off my fiancé I am willing to tell," she smirks. "Actually there is not a lot to tell. We grew up together, it´s simple as that. My father died before I was born and my mother in wedlock. The woman I call mother is actually her sister. She and her husband adopted me. By that time her husband was already the godfather of John. His parents died too very young. As he began to attend Exeter and Eton, Oxford and the Academy later, my father brought him home for the summer and mostly for Christmas too. We shared the same house and ground in those weeks and months. It simply happened without us recognising it. Only as my father planned to marry me off, a disgusting Captain of the Navy, we saw what we have with each other..."  
"But you just recently engaged?"  
"We had been too blind during our bickering and fighting and annoying each other," she smiles. "It should be the last summer we shared together, I should marry afterwards, he would go over land and sea to a war and only god knew if we would see each other ever again. We somehow panicked a little bit. Jealousy sneaked in."  
"But you hadn´t been engaged with that Captain?"  
"Luckily no. My father broke the engagement as I was holding his loaded pistol against my head and threatening to pull the trigger if he wouldn´t do so."  
It was suddenly silent in the room and everybody, except Elizabeth, stopped with their needlework.  
"That´s... radical."  
"When no one else is radical for us, we have to be it for ourself. My father ended the bond and now I can happily marry the love of my life," she smiles into the round.  
"Hard to believe that he can make anyone happy..."  
She turns at Mrs. Strong.  
"I mean... your drawings, the watercolours... you´re artistic and he... is a man of the militair."  
"Oh, he knows very well how to make me happy and it´s never not only once a day," she smirks and all start to giggle.  
"We also heard about you being captured by the patriots, was that true? They held you hostage?"  
"It´s not worth talking about, really. They were incompetent fools. They should have known that my father wouldn´t wait for an exchange of hostages, but sending someone to get me, no matter what it might cost. Every father would do so. The only thing worth talking about is the dashing Major that was sent to ask me questions."  
"How... did he looked like? I am only curious. Not long ago we... had been sieged by patriots."  
Once more her gaze wanders to Mrs. Strong. "Like a fairytale prince. Eyes as blue as the sky in summer, the hair fair and golden like the growing wheat on the fields and charming through and through. He even gave me his coat so I wouldn´t freeze while they were about to bring to the General himself." She remembers that she still has it. The coat of a patriot for sure will come in handy.  
Yes. That sound´s definitely like Ben. Prince Charming who can´t say no to the pleading eyes of a beautiful face. She thought he said something about a raid of one camp weeks ago. All men had been killed and he the only one surviving. A reminder of Simcoe who´s in charge. She should probably ask Ben the next time about the future Mrs. Simcoe when they already encountered.   
"Oh, these are some lovely flowers you´re stitching, Elizabeth."  
"Thank you," she smiles. "I am honest, stitching is not my favourite way of spending time. I still have to work on my stitching skills."  
"But if we wouldn´t work with our needles, everyone would be naked and freeze to death."  
"They say it´s the work of a woman but still praise and pay male tailors to do their suits and uniforms."  
"If a man is doing it then suddenly it becomes a serious occupation."  
"There is no more serious occupation than being a woman."  
All ladies are turning their heads towards the door by the sing song voice and only one of them is smiling bright.   
"I am sorry to interrupt this merry group of fine ladies, but I couldn´t help myself to look for my moon and stars when I am already here at Whitehall. No meeting with the judge can be ever as important as my English rose."  
"My heart and soul..." She smiles with him stepping closer, pulling off his gloves to take her hand into his and bowing down to blow a kiss on this delicate hand.   
The rich daughters are sighing by seeing a man to be so deep in love with his fiancée. The ladies of Whitehall are still suspicious.   
"I thought I would see you only in the evening?"  
"I told you, my dear, that I will take every chance and excuse only to see you," he smiles. He still keeps her hand in his. "I have a meeting with the judge and the Major. Nothing to worry about. All we want is to keep justice and peace in this town."  
"Then I don´t want to keep you from doing so."  
"Even the war would wait for you, for my love."  
Both enjoy it way too much to first show their love in public and second to disgust others with their sweetness. Another kiss onto her knuckles follow his words.  
"Maybe the war, but doubtfully the Major would."   
"Too sad that this is true." Again a kiss before he lets go of her hand, turning to others. With his hand placed on his heart he makes a little bow. "My Ladies, it was a pleasure." With a last glance at Elizabeth he takes his leave.  
The ladies are watching him until he´s out of sight. "How lovely." "He must be so deep in love with you." "When are you going to marry?"  
"My father settled for winter but it can´t happen soon enough in my eyes."  
"He sounds like he can´t wait."  
"Oh! A nice, lovely wedding here in Setauket! Wouldn´t that be nice? Summer would be perfect!"  
"Whitehall would be perfect, wouldn´t it?"  
"Uhm, yes, of course!" Mary smiles nervously while Anna looks slightly alarmed. "It would be an honour to host one, there is enough space and... in Summer... outside..."  
"That would be too kind," smiles Elizabeth, putting a hand onto Marys. "I´ll write my father right away!" Before any Lady of Whitehall could respond, she puts her needlework down and rushes out of the room.  
"Just imagine, a royal vessel in the harbour of Setauket!"  
"What for a splendid view!"  
"It would be the most excisting thing we had here for a while!"  
Well... at least for Anna Strong and Mary Woodhull is hosting the wedding of Captain Simcoe the last thing on earth they would like to do.

She´s grabbed by her elbow and pulled aside against a manly chest. Looking up with a smile said smile is kissed immediately. "Thought you have to meet someone," she whispers with a smirk.   
"Sadly it won´t kill them to wait a moment longer."  
Another kiss.   
"Anna and Mary are so disgusted by us," she giggles lowly with delight.  
"Oh, you already call them Anna and Mary?" Amusement sneaks onto his face.  
"I told you, a beautiful smiling face is trusted easily."  
"Have you got anything already?"  
"John!" Playfully she slaps his arm. "Spying is not as easy as you might think... Woodhull junior was absent during breakfast, the judge said he already left the house. Strange for someone without regular work, don´t you think? Mary-Ann said the staff told her that he always goes to the ruins of his former house, but hasn´t mentioned any intentions to rebuild it or tried any effort to do so. Strange too, right? I also don´t believe that Anna is the whole time in her tavern when she´s outside of Whitehall. She and Woodhull junior are sharing some suspicious looks. I´ll try to get more out of Mary."  
"Don´t try too hard. I don´t want you to be totally exhausted in the evening," he grins, pressing his lips onto her one last time before he lets go of her. It´s already something he can work with. Maybe he should have them observed, sending someone after them when they leave. The cabbage farmer really doesn´t look like a hard working man, miserable shooting skills and punches like a dead fish. Not the kind of man who would and could rebuild his home. Also, his wife looks more comfortable with a life at Whitehall than living outside of the town in an unstable shack. But for now he has to play to keep no grudges against Hewlett and just wanting the best for the citizens of Setauket.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Turn is back and so am I! Don´t worry folks, this fic hasn´t died yet!


	38. Who else can say the man she used to throw apples at married her

"You did what?!"  
"It was an accident! I didn´t intended to! They were saying how lovely a wedding in summer would be and that Whitehall would be perfect and... and I said yes, I said it would be an honour to host one, I never said that it should be their wedding!"  
"Oh God..."  
"And she thanked me, how kind and generous it would be of me, jumped up and rushed out, saying she needs to write her father immediately, before I could do anything to keep her from doing so!"  
"Oh God...," he repeats, walking up and down. Hand running through his hair, over his face, through the hair again, still pacing through the room. This is the worst that could happen. "Father will kill me."  
"He won´t." Mary crosses her arms in front of her chest. "Wouldn´t be the first time he had a reason to."  
True, he admits. "It´s already a nightmare that Simcoe is going to be here nearly every day through her. And now hosting his wedding? It´s going to be a disaster."  
"Well, I don´t guess she wants a wedding worthy of a king, judging her so far I would say she´s rather very humble. She doesn´t seem to care for everything around it, she just wants to... what did she say... get hitched."  
He stops in his pacing and looks at his wife. "I am not talking about the wedding... Simcoe hates me. He wants to see me hanged, he wants to place the rope around my neck and pushing the lever. Mary, he hates me. He is suspicious already now, he trusts none of us, and this man will linger around here every day because his fiancée makes a vacation here, think what will happen when we host their wedding. I´ll be a dead man in summer."  
"Maybe... she seems nice, Abe. She seems nice and humble. And... maybe a woman, that woman especially is able to really... love him? Love knows strange ways and we don´t know if he shows his true self to her or if he always pretends to be the perfect gentleman around her. She, the ward of the Admiral, and he, the godson, then what´s closer for a father than to set these two up? It´s pretty logical in my eyes. And maybe she has, will, can have an influence on him. Maybe he is somewhere able to also feel something like love and will be distracted by her. Maybe she is the distraction we need? They seem to be pretty in love when you ask me."  
"Not this man."  
"Well... he may be a murderer but doesn´t seem to be an adulterer in terms of his fiancée..."  
She hit the mark. "Mary..."  
"We can´t withdraw. We have to face it: We´re going to host the wedding of the Simcoes. Excuse me now, I´ll have to prepare Whitehall for a wedding..."  
His eyes follow his wife as she left the bedroom they were hiding in for the private talk. Hiding from Simcoe and the Major that are downstairs with his father. Hiding from Miss Gwillim down in the saloon. He was shocked as Mary told him about accidentally agreeing on hosting Simcoes wedding. This is what hell must look like.  
He takes the way his wife did a few moments earlier, closing the door behind him and taking the stairs down to the entrance hall.  
"Ah, Mister Woodhull."  
He almost shrieked together by the voice coming up behind him. Slowly he turns around, gulping once and nodding with a "Captain.".  
"My dear love already informed me about your surprising offer. I guess I have to say thank you."  
"Uhm... no thanks needed, Captain." He doesn´t want to know how his thank you will look like. "It... is a pleasure and... a nice change. Mrs. Woodhull... will be thankful to have a new occupation. She is pretty excited already now."  
"I guess so."  
This grin... He can only hope that he will be off to honeymoon after the wedding.  
He steps closer, leaning in and whispering. "Try anything funny and I will skin you alive. Are we on terms?" True, he wants to get behind his scheming and knowing who is the weak link in this house, the rat, but he still needs to stay true to himself. It would be suspicious if a single day would pass where he wouldn´t threaten this cabbage farmer with death. "You won´t talk to her. You won´t look at her. You won´t come closer to her more than five feet. Touch her I´ll gladly cut off your hands and more. Understood?"  
The voice alone makes one shivering, but in a whisper it´s ten times worse. "I would never think to do so, Captain."  
"Good for you."  
He watches him continuing his way to the salon where the women are already chatting about the wedding that will come.  
"I should thank her."  
Is this the walking-up-behind-day he wonders as Abraham turns his head. The voice is way more pleasingly than Simcoes. "For what," he asks Anna.  
One hand resting on the balustrade of the staircase, her stern gaze lingering at the entrance of the salon before turning it onto him. "He hasn´t even looked at me since she´s here. Guess it´s safe to say that I am finally rid of him personally."  
"And that without killing him."  
"Maybe the wedding is the best that can happen to us."  
"The house will be full with royalists."  
"Is it not already now? And afterwards? Think about it. First the honeymoon and then she probably either takes him with her back to England or they move god knows where to to build up a life and family. She is the key to get rid of Simcoe without any bloodshed."  
"Tell the ´no bloodshed` to Simcoe. I think of her time to stay here as suspicious. Right now. Not a week earlier, not a week later."  
Sceptism speaks from her face. "I am not sure. She only talks about him and her water colours." She chuckles shortly. "She called Ben dashing and a prince charming."  
"She knows him?"  
"He was the one to interrogate her during her capture."  
"Don´t let him hear that." He´ll walk around like a cock on the biggest pile of dung.  
"I´ll ask him the next time about her. Maybe he can tell us a bit more than her eternal love story."

It´s much later in the evening, as everybody enjoined the dinner, some more than others, that Captain John Graves Simcoe couldn´t tear his gaze off his fiancée. Deep in a conversation with the lady of the house, already now planning out a wedding though she doesn´t even have a permission of her father for the earlier date. But he knows he wouldn´t mind and she wouldn´t care anyway when he said no.  
Just how bright her eyes are shining, beaming with joy. Too beautiful that he could turn away his eyes for the dull conversation of the Major and the judge. How could he when the sight of her fills his heart with warmth.  
For a moment she looks up to him and a soft smile grows on his lips. A smile only she can elicit from him. One he keeps locked away only for her to be seen. A sigh leaves him as she turns her eyes away with a smirk. He smirks himself by the silent promises her eyes and lips are making him. He takes a sip from his drink. He can´t wait until she is his and he is hers, three months only, and he isn´t forced to climb up the facade of a house to sneak secretly into her bedroom. In three months he can simply take the stairs and no one can say anything against it. Though he would like to see their scandalized and shocked faces. Calling him the big bad wolf while they are not less a wolf than he is. At least he doesn´t disguises himself as a sheep...  
"What do you think about it?"  
Torn out of his own thoughts he has to admit that he hasn´t listened to any conversation that is shared at this table right now. "Anything that will please you, my moon and stars."  
She giggles softly. "I told you, he´ll let me do everything I want."  
"You must consider yourself very lucky."  
"Oh, I really do!"  
"For who else can say the man she used to throw apples at married her in the end."  
"You will hold this against me for all eternity, right," she smirks.  
"Not all eternity. Maybe only through half of it."  
"To my defense, you really deserved it at that moment." She turns to Mary again. "He made fun of me. It was right after my father announced that he want´s to marry me off to that disgusting officer. He made fun of me marrying a fish, that I should grow myself a fishtail with a fish as a groom. To his defense, he really looked like a fish. But it didn´t make me less mad at him and the closest to throw was a bowl full of apples."  
"You have excellent marksman skills, my dear." He takes another sip.  
Did this woman threw apples at Simcoe? She survived it? He actually marries her? What a strange pair...


	39. The Captain has a lovely girl

He spits the sip of water out again, he just took, as he heard what Anna had to tell him. "What?!"  
"Simcoe is engaged," repeats Anna, louder this time.  
"I am not deaf!... Who in this world would ever consider..."  
"You met, she said."  
It is first, very hard for Benjamin Tallmadge to imagine that, by all men in this world, it is Simcoe who is engaged and second...  
"Her name is Elizabeth Gwillim. Ward of Admiral Graves."  
Yes. He remembers that name well. "Yes... we met indeed. She was captured by accident. Simcoe and his Rangers got her out before a prisoner exchange could have happened."  
"Her father send them."  
"I thought so." What father wouldn´t do the same? Maybe he would have done it too in his place. "He raided the camp and almost everyone got killed. She is engaged to him?" Well, their behaviour spoke volumes, they indeed did seem to know each other very well.  
"That´s what they say. Hewlett was asked to give residence to a guest, the daughter of a high decorated officer who wants to visit her fiance, his godson. Turned out said ´highly decorated officer´ is Admiral Graves, the daughter his ward, and her fiancé Simcoe."  
"I still don´t believe that this bastard can be engaged."  
Anna turns at Caleb. She and Abe, together with Benjamin and Caleb, met like usual in the basement of Abe´s former house. The only place where they can meet unseen. "You better believe it because they are and they make me nauseous at dinner. It´s like a nightmare."  
"Well," all turn their heads towards Ben, "she made quite an impression in the camp.Thinking about it, it´s not a surprise that he chose such a woman as a bride... Three men had injured knees, five more looked like they encountered a mountain lion. Five hours and she commanded them around, it took her only five hours and they prepared her a hot bath. I didn´t have one within the last two years."  
A whistle leaves Caleb´s lips, expressing that he too is impressed.  
"Battle prooven men danced when she told them to."  
"Maybe she´s making Simcoe dancing too..."  
"Can you tell us something about her?"  
"During the interrogation, she was calm, witty, smart. Anything concerning the army, the camp, were for sure nothing new to her. She said she won´t know anything about military terms, but I doubt so."  
"We already listened to her sharp tongue. Modern."  
"She told us that she threw apples at him in their youth."  
"And he marries her?"  
"In Whitehall."  
"What?"  
"They marry at Whitehall," repeats Abraham once more, louder this time. He looks pretty stressed by saying this. "Marry agreed to host their wedding per accident."  
"Damnit."  
"But maybe then we´re getting rid of him? He is without doubt a threat to us. Maybe she is the key? Let them marry, I gladly help Mary to prepare Whitehall, I would even carry her train. They marry, they have honeymoons, maybe he returns with her to England? Maybe her father wants to keep him close and arranges, him being transferred into a different unit? Out of here. Constantly in Philadelphia, New York or even into the south."  
"You´re only assuming, Anna. We´ll have to wait and see, hoping that you´re right."  
"Now, can you tell us something about her? I just think that Setauket, no matter of how proud I am of my home, is no exciting place for a young lass of England. Wouldn´t someone like her not rather stay in, for example, Philadelphia? Or New York?"  
"You think she might be..."  
"I don´t think so." Anna shakes her head. "She only always talks about him. Every second sentence turns around Simcoe. Either she is the worst spy of all time or she really is simply here only for her fiancé."  
"That means someone managed it to be blown faster than Abe here?" Caleb earns a mispleased look by his friend to which he simply laughs and claps him on the shoulder.  
"We asked for her favourite flowers, for the wedding, lilacs and forget-me-nots, and now I also know that his favourite flowers are wild ones, because they remind him of her, favoures the colours green and red, what a surprise, preferred red apples over the green ones, it has been green ones she was hitting him with, likes ´Spanish Ladies`only when she sings it, otherwise he prefers ´Bold Grenadier` and the ´British Grenadiers`, Catullus and Ovid are his favourite roman writers and Cleopatra and Marc Anthony his favourite Shakespeare play! Can you imagine that he studied history? And writes poetry? You have no idea how often I had to listen to just how ´amazingly beautiful` his eyes are, or how ´incredibly gently and generous` he is! Once more and I am going to flay the fox..." She takes a deep breath, puffing her cheeks. She looks indeed slight greenish.   
"Avast! I never wanted to know that bastard this intimitadely..." Caleb looks slightly disgusted.  
"Trust me... she´s only here for him and nothing else, I never before saw anyone to be this deep in love like she is."  
"So... another one on the list next to Hewlett and Simcoe?"  
"I don´t think that she´ll become a threat, despite her sharp tongue. But of course it´ll become more difficult to get rid of him now with her barely leaving his side. "   
"But maybe... when they´re married..." Abe shrugs with his shoulders. "I guess they are already now more intimidated than it would be..."  
"Appropiate?"   
He can´t hold stand the glare Anna shoots him. Telling him with a single look that he´s the last one to scold someone for inappropriate behaviour. He clears his throat, holding his gaze down.   
"How do you know? Did you see them? Is her room right next to yours," chuckles Ben.  
Abraham rolls his eyes. "Ha-ha, that´s enough to make a dog laugh. They were seen kissing while strolling through the town."   
Now it´s Ben shrugging casually his shoulders. "They are officially engaged. She looks quite nice. As far as I researched, she has a nice family fortune. Only heir of her parents. That´s attractive enough. Of course you´d play romantic to keep such a girl entertained. To our bad luck, Simcoe isn´t stupid at all." He sighs. "But for now Simcoe is our smallest problem. There are redcoats paying our men to deliver information. We could make out two, but there are probably more."  
"I have a bigger problem."  
All eyes are resting on Abe.   
He feels nervous when all are looking at him like that. "Robert Rogers knows. He knows about all of this. The whole ring. Knows of all our indentities."  
"What did you just say?" With a blank face Ben is staring him, Anna puffs her cheeks and turns away and Caleb sprang up from his seat.   
"He just wants his own revenge on Major André for taking the command of the Rangers from him!" Abe himself has now jumped from his seat. "If we help him to get his revenge we are saved!"  
"You are utterly stupid to think that. You really think he would let us roaming around when he got is revenge? Old Georgie Boy would kiss his ass if he sells his knowledge of us to him!"  
"Caleb..."  
"Has he already threatened you to harm Mary and Thomas?"  
"Caleb..."  
"What is it?!" With anger written all over his face he turns towards Ben.  
"Maybe we can use him against Simcoe. It´s not only Major André for taking the command from him. Whom did he give the command? Who turned the Rangers into a proper unit of soldiers? Who made them gloriously shining?"  
"Simcoe."

"You look now indeed like bloody Romeo," Elizabeth giggles. Wrapped in only a blanket she leans out of the window. "O Romeo, Romeo! Wherefoe art thou Romeo?" A broad smile spreads across her face.  
"I am right here, trying to steady myself onto the ledge to not fall down and breaking my neck."  
She rolls with her eyes. "How romantic." She receives a kiss as an apology.   
"O, speak again, bright angel," he murmurs against her lips, "You are as glorious as an angel tonight." A small kiss. "You shine above me, like a winged messenger from heaven who makes mortal men fall on their backs to look up at the sky, watching the angel walking on the clouds and sailing on the air," he breathes, kissing her again.  
"My bloody Romeo," she whispers.   
"Just for you." He strokes a strand of hair behind her ear, giving her another kiss.   
"You even climb up and down the facade for me."  
"I just can´t help myself... you are simply worth it." He smirks as she tries to hold him there a bit longer with another kiss. "I have to go, my love... just like yesterday. And the day before. And the day before the day before."  
"But I don´t want you to go..."  
"Just a few hours, my love. Only a few hours and we´re sit together again."  
"Sitting beside you is the last thing I want to do with you."  
He laughs lowly. "My sweet, little Lizzie... I really have to leave now." A final and last kiss before he climbs down the ledge of the backdoor. Little does John Graves Simcoe know that in the black darkness of the bushes and trees is a pair of eyes watching him looking up to his fiancé and blowing a kiss at her, watching him walking over to his horse and vanishing into the night.   
The Captain has a lovely girl. Nice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 18th century slang:  
> To fly the fox - vomitting  
> Avast - Stop  
> Enough to make a dog laugh - very funny.


	40. Major Simcoe

"Oh, what do we have here? A little angel sitting here all alone?" With a kind smile on her face Elizabeth goes down on her knees to be on eye-level with the Woodhull offspring. After getting ready for the morning and leaving her room, she went downstairs with the thought in her mind to look for the Major. Asking him if she might be of any help with his correspondence. With a father like hers she is used to it, can be eventually of a small help and it would entertain her more than stitching. Also, it would be perfect to look up if Hewlett might be involved, might know who the mole is or of any other hints of his failure. But then she came across little Thomas sitting all alone in the parlour on the floor with a few wooden animals to play with, his mother nowhere to be seen. Can it be that Mary might at least busy enough to give her son out of her hands? She guesses she´s working in the kitchen and helping to prepare the breakfast like every morning.  
"Good morning, Thomas," she smiles and receives a wide grin from the boy as he looks up. "You´re not much of a talker, are you? Do you know where your mother is?" She looks in the direction he is pointing. She assumed right. The kitchen. "Then we leave your mother to work in peace, do we? Would you like to show me your fine collection of toys? Oh! Did you hear that," she interrupts herself as it knocked against the front door. "Who was that? Do you want to come with me, looking who is waiting there? Might it be your father? Your grandfather? Huuu! Maybe it is the King of England, demanding to see the most precious little boy of all his colonies!"  
Said little boy giggles.  
"Or it is a donkey. Do you think donkeys can knock against doors?"  
He shakes his blond mane.  
"Guess we have to go and see to be sure." She stands up, reaching out with her hand and after he clutches her hand with his smaller one, they walk together towards the door. There she lifts him into her arms, stroking all wrinkles out of his dress, so that he can reach the handle and opening the door.  
"That went fast... I thought it would take nine months, not hours... Though the blond hair makes me rethink your loyalty."  
She rolls with her eyes, looking at the child in her arms. "Well, it´s almost a donkey..." Yet with a smirk on her face, she steps back to let the guest in. "Good morning, my love," she greets him then properly with a wide smile.  
"Good morning, my love," he replies and mirrors her expression, sealing that with a kiss until small hands patting each one's cheeks and they turn their faces to the owner of said hands.  
"Good morning, Sir Thomas," nods Simcoe. "I hope you forgive me my rudeness. I am terribly sorry to have ignored you. Do you forgive me? I can give you my knife as a gift for redemption?"  
"John," she scolds him as he already reaches for his knife. "You can´t give him a knife!"  
"Why not? Look how excited he is." The boy indeed clutches happily into his hands. "It´s never too early, look who his father is. He´ll need it one day for sure."  
"It´s sharp and pointy. What if he hurts himself?"  
"Then he´ll learn a lesson."  
"And what is that for a lesson?"  
"That knives and sharp and pointy things do hurt very much. It´s a lesson for life."  
She rolls her eyes.  
"But don´t worry, Thomas," he continues with a wide grin, "I can still teach you the proper use of a bayonet."  
"John!"  
He starts to hum the melody of The British Grenadiers and the child in her arms claps his hands while laughing.  
Elizabeth shakes slowly her head with a smirk as the voice of the current lady of the house is to be heard.  
"Thomas? Thomas where are you? Is that you, Thomas?"  
"No, Mary, don´t worry. It´s just our, well, probably only mine, beloved Captain," answers Elizabeth, rising her voice for Mary to be heard.  
"Not anymore," Simcoe interrupts his humming and looks at his fiancée with a smug expression on his face, reaching into an inner pocket of his coat. He takes out a folded paper, a letter torn open and already read, the seal broken. "It is ´your beloved Major` from today on."  
Luckily right in that moment Mary appears in the hallway. Elizabeth rushes over, giving the child back into her arms and almost jumps at her fiancé and throwing him over by the, in her eyes, good news. She kisses him passionately before playfully slapping him against his chest. "I´ve told you so! I´ve told you, you would be promoted soon!" She rips the letter out of his hand and unfolds it, reading it right away.  
"I don´t quite get rid of the feeling that you had to do something with it. Good Morning, Mrs. Woodhull," he nods.  
"Good Morning... Major Simcoe. And congratulations to the promotion."  
"Thank you, Mrs. Woodhull."  
"I had nothing to do with it, really. But maybe you should ask father," grins Elizabeth. "Major Simcoe," she sighs, "That sounds incredibly good! My fiancé, promoted to Major..." She gives him the letter back, locking her arm with his and following Mary to the dining room.  
"You seem to be more delighted about my promotion than I am myself."  
"I am just happy for you, my love. And now I can be called Mrs. Major Simcoe when we are married. I like the sound of that."  
"I like the ´Mrs. Simcoe` part of its best." He joins in her small laughter, catching her hand, after she playfully slapped him onto the chest, and blowing a kiss onto it.  
Mary watches the merry couple as they take seats at the dining table. Surreal on one hand. It is still Simcoe. The man that took part in arresting Selah, the man that almost arrested her husband, the one who likely gave the order to shoot Abe's father, the one who would cut out your tongue when you talk too much, who would break your teeth, who gave himself a fearful and bloody reputation. The one even death would step backwards from in fear. Probably that´s the reason why he is still alive. And exactly this man is sitting now at their dining table with his fiancée, sweet and kind, full with adoration and love in the eyes, saccharine, through and through a gentleman. More like a fairy tale prince than a British soldier. Never tearing his gaze away from her just as... she would be a priceless piece, a sacred relic. Kissing her knuckles like a gallant. Laughing with her and about her talks as if he never heard before anything more entertaining.  
On the other hand... it is simply jealousy. Why and how, by all on this earth, by heaven and hell... are they allowed to be happy? Why is he rewarded with, she doesn´t know of any other word to describe it best, love? Why is this man, bloody and brutal, given a fiancée who loves him? And whom he loves? She can´t think of a different word. 'Love' is actually pretty fitting. No one can act this kind of behaviour, how they act around each other, for haven´s sake! She threw and hit him with apples and he marries her! This must be love. Why are these two blessed and rewarded with an engagement of love?

And she herself gives everything, always supports him, strenghten his back, covering him in front of his own father, Hewlett, Simcoe. She is the devoted and obedient wive, she bore him a son to carry on his name... She covered him in the Baker accident, she came up with the idea of a robbery, those burning down their house. True, it was no marriage of love, it was a necessity. But she tries so hard, she does everything! And he still cheats on her. He still doesn´t care. He doesn´t even care for Thomas. He would have let him die of a flue because he was simply stubborn like a mule. Stubborn or stupid... a mixture of both. Reckless. He didn´t care that his son would have to suffer for him starting a second round in the duel with Simcoe. That he would have branded him as the son of the treacherous, stupid, cowardice bastard. Maybe she is the stupid one for she knows. She will do it again. And again. And again. It is unfair. If hell is not freezing over these two will have a marriage of love. And she is trapped until one of them dies. A thought flickers shortly through her mind and she turns her gaze to the entranehall, the staircase that leads up to the bedrooms. No. She made a promise. She vowed it in front of a priest. A sacred, holy vow only god is allowed to break. She looks down onto her son and smile lifts up the corner of her lips. At least she has a son, a child to care for, who returns the love and care she spoils him with. She hears noises from the entrance hall and sitting her son down onto his chair, throwing a glance over to the merry couple, still busy with exchanging little acts of affection. Well, he´ll be probably in worse company if she´d let him all alone with his father... Besides, Miss Gwillim already entertained him on several mornings so far and despite how cruel the, now, Major Simcoe can be, she doesn´t think he´s capable of doing horrible things to a child, such things he would do to grown men. She doesn´t think of him being this monstrous.  
She takes her way back into the kitchen. Time to serve the breakfast, jugded by the voices of her father in law and Major Hewlett from the entrance hall. It´s going to be a morning full with excitements that would be enough for a whole week. Thinking about Simcoe's promotion to Major and the news Anna told her about herself and Hewlett. Him having been inspired by the merry couple in the dining room. And maybe a little bit out of spite and rivalry towards Simcoe.  
"Oh. Good morning, Miss Gwillim." The Major, just as the judge, seems to be a little surprised to see not only her, but also her fiancé already now at the dining table, all alone with the Woodhull offspring, as both men entered. "And good morning to you, Captain."  
A little nudge into his side and John turns his head at his Lizzie as he wanted to rub it into his former commanding officer's face that now he too shared this title. Her gaze tells him that now is not the time. Right. It will be more pleasant when all attend these splendid news. "Good Morning, Major. Sir Woodhull," he nods.  
"Good morning," chirps Lizzie. "I can´t imagine how exhausting it must be in your position, to be already on your feet before breakfast."  
Hewlett laughs lowly. "Thank you for your concern, Miss Gwillim. But this is a price I am willed to pay if I can keep this town free of patriots and safe."  
"I am sure my fiancé is glad in helping you with this task," she smiles brightly. "Keeping this town safe and patriot free."  
"Of course I am, my love."  
The look on Hewletts face tells that he is everything else than delighted.  
With the breakfast being served all living in this house found their way to the dining table. Even the heir of Judge Woodhool decided to honour them with his presence this morning. Clearly showing how uncomfortable he is with his more or less arch enemy sitting at the same table like he. With knives and forks and spoons on the table... The breakfast itself passed by peacefully. The verbal daggers that are thrown are only small and even Simcoe is holding back, what the others think might be only thanks through his fiancée. As Anna and Abe already discussed with the others, their arch enemy is sadly not stupid and with the outcome of a nice fortune through marriage, of course he plays the gallant and who can guess if she even knows of the person that lies beneath those compliments and kisses on the hand.  
"My compliments to you, Mrs. Woodhull, for another splendid meal." Hewlett puts his napkin onto the table, receiving a nod and a smile with a 'my pleasure' by the lady of the house.  
"It may sound surprisingly but I have to agree for once with the Major."  
"What an honour, Captain," murmurs Hewlett.  
"Oh no," grins Simcoe, "It is actually Major now." He enjoys the deadly silence, the falling of cutlery and the disbelief in all their eyes way too much. "The news of my promotion came in the morning."  
"My love, promoted to Major now," Elizabeth sighs, leaning closer to him. "Father will be so proud of you. It´s only a question of time until you´re promoted to Colonel now."  
"Well... congratulations, Major." It obvious how difficult it is for Edmund Hewlett to adress his former subordinante with this rank. "In that case I might as well continue with the good news. I am very glad and actually very happy to anounce that Miss Anna Strong chose to accept my proposal and... to marry me!"  
The Major himself is the only one around the table that beams with joy and pride while again some cutlery fell onto the table and both Woodhulls, Senior and Junior, look pretty shocked. It´s going to be interesting, thinks Elizabeth before she congrats the newly engaged couple.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> John Graves Simcoe was actually promoted to Major already in October 1777 with given command over the Queen's Rangers.
> 
> About Lizzie stroking wrinkles out of Thomas' dress - Actually little Thomas wouldn´t have worn breeches at that age and some time would have passed until he would have to. Little boys also wore dresses back in that time. And mostly on pictures and portrais boys and girls could only be seperated by the toys they were holding in their hands. The girl for example a doll and the boy maybe a dagger.
> 
> Simcoes lesson about sharp and pointy things that will be a lesson for a life is inspired by DEATH from Terry Pratchetts's "Hogfather" where DEATH dressed as a sort of Mall Santa Claus fullfills a girls wish to have sword and her mom complains that he actually really gives her a sword.   
> “You can't give her that!' she screamed. 'It's not safe!'  
> IT'S A SWORD, said the Hogfather. THEY'RE NOT MEANT TO BE SAFE.  
> 'She's a child!' shouted Crumley.  
> IT'S EDUCATIONAL.  
> 'What if she cuts herself?'  
> THAT WILL BE AN IMPORTANT LESSON.”   
> ― Terry Pratchett, Hogfather


	41. "I love you," he breathes. "I know," she smiles.

"Nothing, nothing, nothing," she murmurs while searching through a stack of papers. Letters, reports received, reports written on his own, two maps, notes.... "Nothing," she sighs. Her eyes are flying over the written words, reading them is haste and trying to detect anything that could giver her a clue or a hint if Hewlett might be the mole or if he knows who that is. She searched through drawers and the whole desk. Even under the mattress and pillow. Nothing.  
Elizabeth got lucky. Two days after the announcement of the engagement of Anna Strong and Edmund Hewlett, and their marriage at Whitehall so very soon, all left the house for once. Anna is back in her tavern, judge Woodhull has to work and make peace between two competing neighbours, the Major is off to work too, Woodhull junior... only god knows where he is off too, and Mary left with the maid and servant at once because a wedding in two weeks only demands more supplies. She excused herself with not feeling well and offered to take care of little Thomas while everyone else has left. Mary-Ann is out and trying to get anything out of the citizens of Setauket and the residents of Whitehall.  
"Oh Thomas, one does not crawl beneath desks, my boy." She bends down and gently putting her hands onto the sides of the boy she drags him out from underneath the desk, lifting him into her arms to look him in the eyes. "Such a fine gentleman like you does not crawl beneath a dusty desk. You don´t want dust in your pretty hair, trust me," she smiles and straightens the angelic like hair straight again, getting aware that he holds something in his fist he didn´t had as she walked upstairs with him.  
"What do you have there? Do you want to show me?" Willingly the boy holds up his hand and giving her the crouched piece of paper he found. She sits him down again and unfolding it, straighten it. A gasp leaves her lips as she reads the written words. A letter from Hewlett to Major André... not enough suiting and well expressed as he probably wanted do, crossing it out, obviously crunching the paper and putting aside. This little piece got maybe lost while cleaning up, maybe pushing accidentally beneath the desk with a step. Major Edmund Hewlett suggested Abraham Woodhull to Major André as a spy for the King since he has valid information about the patriots.  
With a grin she lifts the boy up into her arms again, pressing a kiss onto his cheek. "You´re such a good boy, Thomas! The King would be so very, very proud of you!" Softly she pinches his cheeks, luring a laugh from him. "The best spy in all the colonies!" She hides the paper in her cleavage. "You deserved yourself some chocolate, that is sure! Do you want some chocolate?" She laughs as he nods furiously. John needs to know that. Has André every mentioned anything at him? Her father needs to know. "Uncle John will be so proud of you too. Maybe you´ll get a new piece to your fine collection of wooden animals. You´d deserved it." The boy seems delighted with the outcome of a new toy. She takes him downstairs and into the kitchen, roaming through the cabinets until she finds finally some chocolate to feed the child with. She doesn´t care about chocolate handprints on her dress. The boy deserved it. The value of the crunched piece of paper he found! What for lucky circumstances! She sends a little prayer to Fortuna.  
Still with the boy at her side she goes into her room, starting to write a letter on her own, an official report as Agent King Arthur, to her father. Copying the writing of Hewlett. At least he and the Generals will know if André agreed or dismissed the idea of Woodhull Junior as a possible spy fot them. If she tells John about it he will laugh so loud, the King will hear it, she knows for sure. His hate and disgust for that man lies as open as a church door. She thought at first he would exaggerate. But the more she gets to know through Mary-Ann and the talk of the servants, through her personal conversation with both, Mrs.Woodhull and Mrs. Strong, the more she shares his disgust for that one person. Of course she tells John everything she gets to know. If you want to fight your enemy, you need to get to know him. All little dirty secrets and sins. And those who are blackmailable are easy to bend into their knees. He calls him now the scum beneath his boots since she told him that he obviously has no respect for neither his wife nor his affair. Sure, not everyone is, like them, blessed with love. Real love. But even without it you made a vow and that includes respect. Both parties make sacrifices and each one of them should respect that. No wonder with man like Woodhull Junior, that some women turn towards poison instead of embroidery.

He holds his handkerchief in front of nose and mouth. The stench of rotting meat is unbearable. The Rangers close enough do likewise with either a handkerchief or the sleeve of their coat. He goes into his knees, with a twig he shoves the red coat aside. It´s so disgusting. A foul taste grows in his mouth and not only he but everyone around brings up as much self control as possible to not throw up. Once you have smelled the stench of rotting meat, you´ll never forget it. They found him. Well, at least what´s left of Corporal Eastin. The messenger Hewlett sends off, after they rode the whole way down that leads out of Setauket and were checking the roadside. Only covered with leaves, left there for the wild animals to feed on.

_"Go for it."_  
_"Is this a trap?"_  
_"No, and even if. I know you would gladly fall for it," she grins up to him after telling him to reach into her cleavage._  
_"I would but still I also would like to know if you only want to seduce me or looking for a chance to slap me."_  
_"A little bit of both," she grins._  
_He smirks at her and gives in. He reaches into her decolleté with the fingers of his right hand. He looks at her with furrowed brows as he feels something that doesn´t belong there and pulls it out. Paper? A piece of crunched paper?_  
_"Unfold and read," she advises him with a mischievous look on her face._  
_He follows her words and while he reads his eyes widen and his whole face lightens up. "I love you," he breathes._  
_"I know," she smiles._

"Fletcher?"  
"Yes, Sir?"  
"Ride back into town and organize a cart to transport what´s left of Corporal Eastin. He should get more than a cover of leaves... I also want a doctor to take a look at him. I want to know for how long he might lie here."  
"Yes, Sir." Without hesitation the Ranger called Fletcher gets back into his saddle rides towards town to fulfill the Majors order. He is glad to get away from the disturbing and gruesome sight. It´s not the fact of seeing a corpse, but the state the corpse is in. Bloated, the skin pale-greyish and... waxy, smeared with wet dirt from the ground, the lips blue-purple... and the stench! He can already taste bile in mouth thinking of the stench that creeps into his nostrils as soon as he only thinks of it! He shudders and tries to forget that sight as fast as possible.  
Major Simcoe goes on with the twig and pulling something out of the waistband, bringing it closer to him. "Jameson? I guess I found the flask that has been stolen from you a few days ago..." He took the flask with a second handkerchief and takes a closer look. Clearly, the insignia of the Rangers and the initials of the owner. Clever, he thinks. Stealing it and placing it with Eastins corpse, to lead suspicion to the Rangers if he might be found. Not the work of Woodhull. He is not that smart.  
Only between the fingertips of the thumb and index finger and outstretched arm said Ranger is taking back his possession. "Thank you... Sir..." He will drown it in the sea... No way that he will ever take a sip from it. 

_"I´ve got an answer from father," she whispers. Her lips stroking his ear, a hand gliding from his neck up into his hair._  
_A sigh of pleasure leaves his lips. "What does Merlin and the knights of the round table say," he murmurs, spreading little kisses over the bare skin of her shoulder._  
_"They never had heard any word from neither Hewlett nor André about Woodhull recommended as spy. André denied to have ever gotten any informations from Hewlett."_  
_"If that letter never reached André..."_  
_"Then what happened with it?"_  
_"Or: What happened with the messanger?"_  
_She draws back enough to look him in the eyes._  
_"Woodhull is involved. Who else might have an interest in making this letter disappear and never reaching its destiny? What if he has valid information, but doesn´t want to share it with us, the red coats, the British, the Tories, the devils...? What if he is an agent?"_  
_"But fot the almighty General..."_  
_"I knew it... I knew it since I arrived here that this man is nothing more than trouble in human form, I knew he is a traitor and now I got him, I´ll make him empty the bag. He is expended." he grins in triumphant, kissing her passionately._  
_"You should go and search for the messanger first. If you find him, you have a proof. Otherwise, every judge might say he took the change and deserted before delivering the message and Woodhull will have enough time to construct a nice fairy tale. Mary will cover him. She will always do so. No matter how many times he will humiliate her, she is the kind who thinks she must be devoted because she took a silly vow in front a priest, where everyone else would have already poisoned his ale."_  
_He looks in pure admiration and fascination at her. His cruel goddess... completing him by all accounts._  
_"This time he will have to bite the bullet," she grins, "Come hell or high waters, this time we will take the wind out of his sails."_  
_"I love you, my lovely load of mischief..."_  


He rises up again, towering over the corpse and tearing his gaze off, looking around the place. Nothing that shimmers or reflects the pale sunlight. Nothing that looks strange in this place. Except for the corpse to his feet. He lets go of the twig and steps out onto the road. Looking down the way that leads to Setauket and the one that leads out of it. Nothing that reminds of the crime that might have happened here a few days ago. Might. No. He is sure it was a crime. Doubtful that Corporal Eastin dropped dead, fell from his horse right into the undergrowth and covered himself with the fallen leaves after stealing the flask from Fletcher... Not Hewletts men, he hammers things like morality and honour into his men. Things that impede one only in a war. Hewletts men wouldn´t steal... not something so randomly like a flask. He turns towards the wood again. Wait... Isn´t the grounds of Woodhull behind the wood?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To bite the bullet - navy slang: to face something unpleasant  
> Come hell or high water - navy slang: to do whatever it takes to accomplish a mission  
> To take the wind out of his sails - navy slang and I guess it doesn´t need an explanation ;D  
> To empty the bag - 18th century slang: To tell everything  
> Expended - 18th century slang: Dead/ to get killed  
> Load of mischief - 18th century slang: Wife.
> 
> Dissection/necropsy was nothing strange. It was legal. In german regions the Sachsenspiegel (ca.1220) even forbid the burial of corpses without a judge took at least one look at the corpse. In the UK at least for physicians and barber-surgeons it was legal but limited. The Murder Act of 1752 allowed finally to also dessect the corpses of executed murderers for education and anatomically researches.
> 
> "I love you." "I know." - I am a huge Star Wars fan and I simply couldn´t resist to put this little bit of Han Solo and Princess Leia in here.


	42. Do you hide giants in your trunk?

"One week... one and a half... It´s hard to say under such circumstances. He was found in the woods barely covered with leaves?"  
"Correct." The surgeons and doctors in Setauket were not good at all and he wouldn´t trust them either. Therefore that so many former citizens went over to Washington's little army, he can´t be sure if they are impartial or not. He also hasn´t told Hewlett nor question him about Corporal Eastin. First he wants to know what the dead do tell before he does so. Only for this he let a surgeon from New York, the British Army, come to Setauket. He lost two days, but they´re hopefully worth it.  
"Difficult... scavengers already took a few bites, the weather is too wet and moist here. It fastens the decay of a corpse..."  
Covered with a sheet on a cart they brought him into an empty barn he simply occupied for this case. He still keeps a handkerchief in front of nose and mouth, still the stench is unbearable and the view isn´t pleasant at all too. Fletcher and Jameson, who's task it was to move the corpse onto the cart couldn´t even hold back their lunch anymore. He can´t blame them. Meanwhile the surgeon works without anything in front of his breathing organs, like he smelled worse or is simply used to it. Probably. It´s not always possible to get a hand on dead soldiers on the battlefield. Sometimes they can only be buried days later.  
"I could be more precise when we would be in South Carolina. Or in Canada. Coldness keeps from decaying and heat drains the body from any waters, it preserves."  
"Like the ancient Egypt's did it."  
"Finally someone who knows what I'm talking about." The surgeon looks up from poking between organs and throws a smile to the Major before turning his gaze back to dead one. "Come on... won´t you tell me why you are lying here now," he murmurs. With a scalpel and forceps he shoves organs aside until he freezes. "I guess," he pulls at something with the forceps and holds it up then, "that´s the culprit. Tearing the aorta in two. I guess I am right when I say that the Corporal was unconscious as he hit the ground and bled to death in less than five minutes."  
He steps closer , a _pling_ as the surgeon let the object fall into a bowl, tells him that it was somehow metallic. Close enough, he takes the bowl in one hand and is not very surprised to see a bullet. Lucky shot, he thinks. Even for a skilled one. To hit a moving target and ripping the aorta...  
"Is that all you wanted to know, Major Simcoe?"  
"Yes. Thank you, Sir. That is all. You can," he makes a waving gesture with his free hand after he put down the bowl, "do whatever you do when you´re finished."

"And who is this?"  
"Jack the Giant killer!"  
"Right! And where do the giants live?"  
"There." The boy points with his fingers to the ceiling.  
"Up there? In your bedroom? Do you hide giants in your trunk?"  
The boy laughs soundly with a "No!"  
"Are you really sure," Elizabeth asks with supsicion in her voice. "Have you ever seen a giant in your trunk?"  
"No," the boy continues to laugh about such a silly thing.  
Since the Woodhull offspring found this one special paper Elizabeth offered herself more and more to take care and keep an eye on little Thomas, with all the other members of Whitehall being so busy with the preparation of a wedding within two weeks. Proofing herself of being able to take good care of Thomas she also gained his mothers's trust.  
She remembered the tale of Jack the Giant killer with his famous three magic beans and the beanstalk and so she painted a few scenes she remembered to show them Thomas and telling what she still knows on her own.  
"Maybe the giants are invisible?"  
"They are not."  
And he finally started to talk with her. "So, you really don´t have any giants in your trunk?"  
The boy laughs again a "No."  
"Probably you don´t because they are all scared of you for you are the bravest boy in all the colonies! Maybe Uncle John can put a good word in for you to the king that you´re anounced to General to command his armies," she smiles. "And since you´re so sure that there are no giants in your trunk... then maybe we go searching for giants? Do you want to visit the giants?"  
"Yes," the boy exclaimed loudly and nods.  
"What for a lucky boy you are!" She prods his nose. "Just yesterday Uncle John gave me these," she takes three simply beans, she stole more or less from the kitchen earlier, out of a pocket of her skirt, "Do you know what these are?"  
"Magic beans!" The boy rises onto his feet, not able to sit still any longer, nor containing his excitement anymore.  
"Exactly! Do you want to go outside and plant them with me?"  
Another fierce nod by the boy and he immediately reaches for her hand as Elizabeth rises onto her own feet. "Come, first we get a spoon. We don´t want to get our hands dirty, right?"  
In the kitchen, Mary and Aberdeen are busy with thinking about an order of meals for the Hewlett-Strong wedding. In confusion Mary looks at the guest with her son at her hand as they enter and taking just a spoon before leaving again.  
"Don´t worry," winks Elizabeth at Mary as she recognises her confused look.  
"We plant magic beans, Mama!"  
"Alright... at least your father demonstrated how farming is done wrong. Do exactly the opposite of what he did, then your magic beans should grow in no time. But don´t get snatched away by giants, my dear."  
"Don´t worry, Mary, I told him about Jack the Giant killer, we know how to fight giants."  
"Well, that reassures me. Have a lot of fun, sweety." Mary doesn´t mind and isn´t worried at all that her son leaves the house at the hand of Miss Gwillim. She thinks he is in safe hands, even when the newly promoted Major is at her side. He likes her, he feels good with her. To hear him laughing is proof enough in her eyes. Abe is not approving but she doesn´t care. Since when does he care? She is basically raising Thomas all alone. Elizabeth made her thinking about it as she mentioned how Abe is almost never there, only for breakfast or dinner at the most, comparing it with her own childhood where her father too was absent, often and for long times but when he was home, he never let her out of his arms and spend as much time as possible with her. It sounds... how it should be. It sounds right.

"You chose the spot where we will plant the beans. I am sure you´ll find the right one." Outside, Elizabeth shoves the boy softly forward, keeping her eyes on him as he wanders around, looking for the right place, one that would satisfy him and he thinks the magic beans will get enough sunlight and water to grow properly, just like in the tale Aunt Lizzie told him. One that will reach high into the clouds where the giants live.  
Out of the corner of her eyes, she sees a silhouette of green riding closer. Turning her head, a grin spreads across her face as she sees the rider coming down the path that leads to Whitehall.  
The rider steadies his horse and gets off.  
"Either you´re the best Major this town has, or the worse when you´re here by now at this time of the day."  
"The first, my love. I don´t want to take the title as worst Major from Hewlett. That would be rude."  
She grins and calls her fiancé welcome with a kiss. "You smell strange..." She wrinkles her nose.  
"The surgeon found a bullet. The Corporal for sure was not going to desert or killing himself. Undoubtful that he was shot right after heading off to deliver the message, We´ll have an exact date when I interrogate Hewlett. And then..." He grins, pulling her closer with putting an arm around her waist, "I´ll have him," he whispers. He wants to kiss her, but is stopped by a hand on his chest.  
"Don´t be too hasty, my love."  
"It is the poor excuse of human mankind in the form of that miserable cabbage farmer, who else would have an interest in keeping the message about him as agent from reaching its destiny? The judge? He is too much judge for it..."  
"First, I´ll report and we wait for further instructions. Second, imagine how much fun it would be to fulfill your duty on Hewletts wedding! And third, Mary starts to trust me. If you put her husband now into shackles all was for nothing. The things I can get out of her once she trusts me completely, think about it! Only the smartest men or the biggest cowards are including their wives into their plans and we both know that he is not smart. She would do everything to keep her family whole and sadly he is part of it."  
He grins again, looking at her with knowledge and pride. "They shouldn´t fear the British Army, they should fear you."  
She laughs lowly, going onto tiptoes and giving him the kiss he was waiting for. A soft pull at her skirt makes her breaking the kiss.  
"Good day, Sir Thomas." John bows down, just like how it would be done at the court of the King, and the boy tries to mirror him with a 'Good day, Sir Uncle John.' He is proud of himself and Elizabeth. The boy is talking by now to them, they are for him the nice Aunt Lizzie and Uncle John and through the boy she also gains his mothers trust. "Have you already slain a dragon today, Sir Thomas?"  
The boy giggles "No." and shakes his head.  
"Me neithers. Dragons are too rare these days."  
"Dragons are yesterday, my love. Today we want to face giants."  
"Oh, really? Have you already seen one today, Sir Thomas?" In the last days it evolved into a small play between him and the Woodhull offspring to talk to him and to treat him like a royal knight. He was so in awe as Lizzie told him the tale of King Arthur, Excalibur, his knights, Merlin, Morgana and Avalon...  
The boy shakes his head once more.  
"There are none in his trunk."  
"But... but," the boy needs three attempts, like small children tend to do before thinking about what they actually want to say and finding the right words, "Aunt Lizzie has magic beans!"  
"And of course you want to plant these now?"  
A nod follows his words and another one as she asked if he found the right spot for it. He takes the two adults by the hands and leads them behind the house. There, between the backdoor and the entrance to the basement, he found the perfect place for the beans to grow. All three of them go down on their knees. Thomas wants that each of them is planting a bean, though it´s Thomas at the end, patting the freshly dug and piled up earth above the beans and telling them to grow quickly and strong.  
Rising onto her feet again, Elizabeth knocks the dirt off her skirt that is already now slightly stained with green grass. where she had been on her knees.  
Seing this, Major Simcoe pulls his fiancée closer. "I know a way more pleasurable cause for a green gown," he murmurs with a smirk decorating his face.  
"Get that smell off you first. Right now you are as far away from a green gown as possible..."  
Yes, he probably does smell a little bit... nasty, he admits. Sure, spending some time in a closed room with a rotting corpse has that effect. "Will you accompany me?"  
"It´s in the middle of the day," she says outraged, but he knows it´s just an act. "You go and take a bath now. But maybe you can accompany me later," she smirks, her fingers playing with the buttons on his lapel.  
"That sounds lovely."  
While they share a kiss, she fishes his pocket watch out of a pocket of his waistcoat. "Also," she opens it and takes a look at the clock-face, "in two hours the tailor will arrive for adjusting my wedding gown. I want it to be a surprise for you."  
"That´s the best reason you could have given me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jack the Giant Killer is a tale that plays during King Arthur's reign and was first published in 1711.  
> Green Gown - is a 18th century slang and actually means to have sex in the grass ;)


	43. Marry in blue, your love will be true

"We can add lace to the sleeves and if you would like to, weaving in silver threads. Along here we would add pearls, it would look incredible and matching the blue. Both, the pearls and silver threads would make you shining like Madame Lunar herself. The most beautiful bride the colonies will ever see!"  
Elizabeth turns around, from one side to the other, admiring her view in the mirror, her eyes not missing a single detail on the gown. White and blue. The stomacher and petticoat in white and the rest in a light blue like the clear winter sky. "Yes to the lace. No to the pearls. Legend says they are the tears of the gods... I don´t want there any tears, nor draw the jealousy of some vain goddess onto me... But I like the idea of the silver threads. Can you add this to all and not only the trimming?"  
"Nothing is impossible, Mrs. Soon-to-be-Simcoe."  
She giggles with the tailor addressing her like that. By now the sleeves will be shortened a minimum and the tafetta will be replaced with lace. The hem is pinned to be shortened by the width of two fingers and now decided, silver threads will be added to the blue silk. "What do you say?" She turns around, presenting herself to Mary, who sits patiently aside and busies herself with embroidery, Thomas was given a few paper sheets and a pen.  
She was actually busy with preparing Whitehall for the other wedding in less than seven days. But her guest insisted that she accompanies her for the fitting of the wedding gown. Male tailors can be masters of their occupation, but nothing compares to the opinion of a woman. "It´s beautiful." It is indeed. The whitest silk she ever saw, so pure and bright and the blue really reminds her of the clear blue sky on a cold winter day with the sun still shining bright. It´s matching her eyes, her hair, her rosy cheeks... "Beautiful, all in a whole." The silk looks so... flowing. She never wore anything this expensive and beautiful. Wool and cotton are her fabrics. Imagining the silver to the blue... "You will shine bright like the stars." Justifying how he addresses her. His moon and stars. "Well... they say: Marry in blue, your love will be true." Her best dress back then was only brown. It´s true what the poem says. She indeed lives out of town.  
"And: Marry when the June roses grow, over land and sea you´ll go," smiles Elizabeth brightly.  
"And wednesday is the best of all." A Wednesday in June is the Simcoe wedding. Blessed in any way. If there´s going to be a rainbow on that day she will lose her faith. Then these two are probably personally blessed by God.  
"I love it, Matthew. It´s wonderful. I am so excited and can´t wait to see it finished."  
"I bet the groom can´t wait to see it too. Or rather can´t wait to take it off," the tailor with the name Matthew asks with a sly smile and makes the soon to be bride giggling again. "You know what women want to hear. No wonder that they praise you as the best tailor in Philadelphia. And of course because of your incredible handiwork."  
"Too many compliments, my Lady, I feel beyond honoured."  
"Well deserved compliments," she smirks, watching in the mirror how he carefully undoes the stomacher and the gown.  
"A wedding gown is the greatest honour a tailor like me can get and especially for a woman like you. Daughter of Sir Admiral Graves, bride of Major Simcoe... I promise, not even the wardrobe of the Queen can mess with this one here once I am finished."  
"How very reassuring to know, Matthew. I entrust you completely with this and because I do, I have a not so small request."  
The tailor looks up to his customer, giving the pieces of the gown over to his apprentice to fold them neatly, not loosing a single pin and putting it into a trunk they transport it with. "Everything, Miss Gwillim."  
"You see the lovely lady with her neat embroidery over there?"  
"Of course I do."  
Mary looks up, freezing with knowing it´s her that´s been talked about, suspicious of what might follow.  
"I want you to make her a gown that´s as lovely as she is. The price doesn´t matter."  
"Elizabeth...! Miss Gwillim... there is no reason to, no, please," Mary tries to protest, but Elizabeth had already stepped down from the small step she was standing on to present the gown. Only in stays and chemise, in her stockings, she goes over to Mary, taking her hands and pulling her from the chair. "We agreed that it´s simply Elizabeth or just Lizzie," she smirks, "You were so lovely and kind to me from the first day I arrived here. You showed me nothing but kindness. You took me in as your guest, you gave me a warm and cozy bed-"  
It´s probably only praisable cozy and warm through the Major, thinks Mary.  
"- to eat and to drink, you accept my fiancé as a regular guest. you entrust me with your child and you´ll let me marry here! At Whitehall! I don´t know how to repay so much kindness. See it as a thank you. It´s way better than a handshake," she winks and with Marys shy laugh, she knows, she has her. "And you also simply deserve it. Look at you. You manage it to raise a child and the daily life of Whitehall! If your husband is not taking care of you, then someone else has to do it."  
A few seconds pass by before Mary replies: "Alright... thank you. It is still too much in eyes, I just... do what has to be done and I was raised to be kind and friendly."  
"I won´t give up until you accept it," says Lizzie with a wink and a smirk.  
Another small laugh. "Alright, alright... thank you. But nothing too expensive, promise?"  
"Just let Matthew take care of it," laughs Lizzie, "he knows very well what´s suiting one best. And it´s my money anyway. I can spend it how I want to."  
She is... surprised describes it best, about this information as she is dragged onto the step and right away the tailor does his work, taking measures while his apprentice is writing them down. She feels awkward. Never before has an actual, professional tailor, who usually uses silk and other expensive fabrics, taking her measures, taking a close look at her, the hair, her complexion, eyes and pondering about colours, patterns and braids that would fit her best. It feels awkward but... it also feels nice. It feels nice and good for once to not sew her wardrobe herself. To let somebody else doing the work.  
"But we don´t tell it your husband," Elizabeth says in a conspiratioally melody in her voice and a wink. "Husbands don´t need to know everything what we´re doing and I fear he doesn´t like me that well to accept it without trouble."  
"Eli... Lizzie, I am sorry. I apologise for him."  
"There is no need to, Marry. I know about the more or less personal war he has with my fiancé. I know that he can be a difficult man and not everyone might be on term with his way of commanding. But he would never do anybody wrong. He strongly believes in our King and the Crown and therefore only wants its best and fulfilling his duty as well as he can. He also would jump in right away to defend a woman's honour. He indeed is through and through a gentleman."  
She remembers the duel between Simcoe and Abe. She still isn´t sure if it was purely to defend Annas honour or because Simcoe simply wanted to kill Abe without fearing any consequences.  
"I also know some are not able to distinguish one's actions from one's person or his relatives. I am so happy that you are different, Mary," she takes her hands into hers again, softly squeezing them,"and don´t blame me for any grudge your husband might hold against my soon-to-be."  
"Oh no, I... that would be stupid and I see you with Thomas and... I would never think of you being vile enough or do anything vile. I don´t even think of the Major to be able to be vile enough to harm him. You are right. It´s wrong to judge someone for someone else' action. And one should differ ones actions from one's person. The Major is still a soldier and... soldiers are there to take out orders, right?" Shortly her thoughts are wandering to Ensign Baker. He never made any problems. He was kind and nice, always lend a helping hand. His only misfortune was to be a dutiful soldier of the British Army. Fortunately for him he survived the shot and managed it to drag himself out of the house before the flames caught him. Fortunately for them, he hit his head so hard by falling to the floor after the shot that he suffered an amnesia, completely forgot to have blown Abe as a spy, afterwards and was brought out of Setauket. She doesn´t know where to. Maybe he was sent back home to cure. She hopes he is alright so far. She would have regretted it otherwise. He was always kind to her and Thomas... Sometimes he seemed so helpless...  
"I see, your little Thomas is so smart because of you."  
Both women are laughing heartily.

"I promised you a bath," Lizzie snickers between kisses and with her hands busy to take off his coat.  
"I love your kind of promises," he breathes against her lips, capturing these once more and eager to get in the tub of steaming water with her as soon as possible. Rid of the waistcoat, his fingers are helping her to unbutton his waistcoat, undoing the knots of his cravat. "You know what else I love?"  
"My breasts?"  
"Yes, those too especially."  
"Me in stockings?"  
"Incredible..."  
"Me in stockings and wearing your coat?"  
"Devine!... But I also loved this cabbage farmers face as Mrs. Woodhull jumped to your defense," he chuckles lowly. It was delicious, amazing to witness! As, during dinner, this trouble maker could drag him and Hewlett into a heated argument, also dragging her into it as suddenly a boost of confidence seemed to rush through Mrs. Woodhull and she defended her, shutting her own husband down. It was so very delicious to witness that.  
"I did good work, right? She trusts me more and more. I ordered a dress for her. Not without ulterior motives." Carelessly she lets his waistcoat drop to the floor, pulling his shirt out of the breeches. "Saying I can´t be blamed for your actions. Admitting one should differ between ones actions and one's personality, admitting you too are just a soldier following orders."  
He takes his lips from her neck, his fingers from her lacing, taking her chin in his hand and looking directly into her eyes, staring deep into her mind. "I know who you are and why you´re here..."  
She stops her doing, confused.  
"You´re a goddess, so beautiful and cunning, so ultimately perfect that the others got jealous and threw you down here, banning you from heaven, out of all temples. But even wandering amongst humans you still make them green with envy, making them choking on their own anger. But I haven't figured out by now... why... on this earth... by all wandering on it... you chose me."  
A slow smile spreads across her face. Always so poetic... "Maybe... because you are the only one knowing how to worship a goddess properly?"  
Without any other words he drops onto his knees only to vanish beneath her skirts and stealing her breath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In my verse Ensign Baker survived and lives. If he will return to Setauket I don´t know yet. He is too precious to stay dead.
> 
> White wedding gowns only became popular with Queen Victoria. Before it was common to marry in any colour you prefered. There was a poem about wedding gown colours and their meaning:  
> Marry in white, you've chosen him right.  
> Marry in blue, your love will be true.  
> Marry in pearl, you'll live in a whirl.  
> Marry in brown, you'll live out of town.  
> Marry in red, you'd be better off dead.  
> Marry in yellow, you're in love with the fellow.  
> Marry in green, you love being seen.  
> Marry in pink, your family will link.  
> Only the higher class could afford a special gown for the wedding. It was no difference made between a neat dress and a wedding dress for the common people.
> 
> There is also a poem about the right month to marry:  
> Marry in January when the year is new,  
> He'll be loving, kind and true.  
> When February birds do mate  
> You wed nor dread your fate.  
> If you wed when March winds blow  
> Joy and sorrow both you'll know.  
> Marry in April when you can  
> Joy for maiden and the man.  
> Marry in the month of May  
> And you'll surely rue the day.  
> Marry when the June roses grow  
> Over land and sea you'll go.  
> Those who in July do wed  
> Must labour for their daily bread.  
> Whoever wed in August be,  
> Many a change is sure to see.  
> Marry in September's shine,  
> Your living will be rich and fine.  
> If in October you do marry  
> Love will come, but riches tarry.  
> If you wed in bleak November  
> Only joys will come, remember  
> When December's snows fall fast,  
> Marry and true love will last.
> 
> And for the day:  
> Monday for health  
> Tuesday for wealth  
> Wednesday best of all  
> Thursday for losses  
> Friday for crosses  
> Saturday for no luck at all
> 
> To the pearls:  
> Greek mythology says that pearls are the tears of gods and tears were a misfortune on a wedding ;) Also Pearls were generally critically eyed in the jewellery of the bride on her wedding. "Each pearl a tear" comes from the time of the pearl divers who often didn´t return from their trips to get pearls.


	44. The entourage of a deity

"I will go and I will take Thomas with me."  
"I forbid it."  
"You forbid me nothing, Abraham Woodhull!" Mary takes a deep breath, clearing her mind, lowering her voice again. "Elizabeth invited me. She invited me to accompany her to New York. Two days, Abe. You will manage to survive two days without me covering you, won´t you? They retreated from Philadelphia to New York City, she is worried for her father, wouldn´t you?"  
"He´s an Admiral of the Royal Navy, I guess he´ll be pretty fine on his own."  
"She also needs to see her tailor for her wedding gown." She was right. Her husband doesn´t need to know that there is a gown in work for her. "And with the company the travel wouldn´t be so dull and safer. You should thank her. Simcoe is guiding the carriage with a few Rangers. He will be out of town for two days. And actually," she crosses her arms in front of her chest, lifting her chin, "I want to accompany her. I want to see New York City and it can´t be bad for Thomas too."  
He is speechless. Yes. That describes him best now. Speechless, surprised and... unbelievable that... "She tries to manipulate you. She is one of them, she is Simcoe's fiancée. Of course she tries to manipulate you. Maybe... maybe she thinks..."  
"You forget that not everyone is like you," she interrupts him. "I will go and I don´t care what you have to say to this. Two days, Abraham... use them wisely, Anna will be soon married... but that fact never bothered you, right?" She admits that his face made her smile. She then ruffles her skirt and leaves the bedroom. She doesn´t know herself what came over her. What demon... no. Common sense. She calls it common sense now. And maybe also because... through Elizabeth she sees that it can be indeed different. She doesn´t need to let herself be pushed down only because she´s a woman. She deserves respect too. She´s done with caring for two children when actually only one of these is an infant. Manipulating... He is the only manipulative one in this house. How often, how many times did he talk her into covering him, how often has he done it with his father... She doesn´t want to pay the price any longer for not being the woman he wished from his heart to marry.  
"You still think of it as wise to take her with you, mistress?"  
"I do, Mary-Ann. I have her so far that she entrusts me with her son. She accepts my gift and thank you in the form of a gown. She starts to trust me. The suspicions and evidences that her husband is the mole are growing. If I can draw her onto our side, he´ll have none to support him anymore."  
"Fot not even his own father is entirely positive about him."  
"Right. I'll show her the lovely home father has now in New York City, she'll stay there for a night. I doubt she has ever left Setauket."  
"The spell of a city like New York with its harbour, shops and markets."  
"Exactly," Elizabeth grins.  
Mary-Ann throws a glance over to Whitehall. The carriage they will travel with is loaded with small luggage. A carriage with cushioned seats, one of the better ones one could get in Setauket. "A woman who is unsatisfied with being the simple wife of a cabbage farmer, shown the splendid life of the big city."  
"Her son likes me, he likes John," she shrugs her shoulders, "and when she sees us being so deeply in love, just imagine! She who was urged into a marriage, marrying a selfish fool who shattered her dreams. And when I say how much John respects me, his poems, that a woman is not less worth than a man, that we have a right to have a life..."  
"While Mr. Woodhull cheats on his wife... having her out of his reach for two days..." Her maid smirks. "If women would lead the war, we would have been done with it in a few weeks only."  
"Men just like to suffer." Again she shrugs her shoulders. "Take John, for example. He rather suffered for years than simply reading my letters," Elizabeth smirks.  
"Speaking of the Devil..."  
A smile grows on her lips as she sees five men in green coats, riding closer to Whitehall and the first one being her beloved Major. Green coats with black lapels and a silver crescent moon decorating the hat. What a wonderful sight, in her eyes. She never liked the knights who killed the dragons in her tales. But for this one especially she makes an exception. She loves that sight of her knight high on the horse in his shining armour dashing over the green meadow.  
Straight towards his Princess... "My moon and stars."  
"My heart and soul." Her eyes never leave him while he gets down off his horse, giving the bridles to his second man and takes the few steps towards her.  
She took off her glove, it´s early in the morning, the sun is only up for a single hour herself, and reaches out to him. Like a proper Gentleman he softly encloses his fingers around her, slightly bowing down and bringing her knuckles to his lips.  
"My shining knight has arrived to bring me safe to New York City."  
"I would call it the entourage of a deity," he smirks.  
She doesn´tmiss the double meaning of his words. Once directed towards her and second to Diana, goddess of the hunt which' crescent moon they carry on their hats.  
"Is my love ready for departure?"  
"Your love is but the company of your love isn´t."  
"For me, you´re the only company I´ll need." With a sly grin he steps closer until the fur of her cape brushes his coat and Mary-Ann clearing her voice reminds them that no one cares what they do when nobody sees them, but as long as they´re seen: They´re not married yet.  
Rolling his eyes he takes a small step back to keep a proper distance again and keeping himself from being seduced to kiss her.  
"Maybe you go and take a look? Mr. Woodhull seemed pretty reluctant letting his wife go with me. Not that he locked her away. I would entrust him to do so."  
"Not only you," the Major murmurs and looks over to the house before his feet are taking it to him. A small gesture with his right hand tells his men they should stay at the carriage and his fiancée. There won´t be nothing within Whitehall he couldn´t handle alone. Just as he takes the steps up the porch, door is opened. "Good morning, Mrs. Woodhull. We were already worried for you."  
"Good morning, Major Simcoe. I am fine, thank you." She murmurs another thanks as he takes the simple bag she slung over her shoulder and offers her his right arm. "Shouldn´t Sir Thomas accompany us?"  
"He stays here. He... is not well enough for a travel."  
What for a lie... "Don´t you want to wish us a safe travel, Mr. Woodhull?" A grin of pure amusement grows as he sees the cabbage farmers face in the door. he certainly wishes him to drop dead. "Anyway, you don´t need to worry. We´ll bring your lovely and humble wife back safe and healthy. Good day, Mr. Woodhull." Out of hearing range he leans in closer to Mary and whispers conspiratorially: "I could get him flogged." He continues with her alarmed face. "For disrespecting me. He didn´t greet me. Very rude and disrespectful in my eyes,"  
"No! No, please, Major, it´s alright."  
"Are you sure?"  
"Yes, Major Simcoe. Thank you."  
"Know for sure I won´t tolerate any cruelty or violence against a Lady under my watch."  
"That´s honourable, Major. I will keep it in my mind, Sir," she nods. She is surprised that anyone thinks of Abe as capable to harm her. He can´t even pluck the feathers of a chicken...  
"Oh, where is Thomas?" Disappointement and curiosity speaks from Elizabeth's words.  
"Not well enough for a travel." This moment is not the right time to confess that both Woodhulls were against the idea of her taking Thomas onto the ride and either he stays with the Judge, so he said, or he will tell Hewlett all about Abe's secret activities. She can´t... the father of her child... can she?  
"Oh, that´s sad to hear. Hopefully it´s nothing serious and he´ll soon run around again," smiles Elizabeth.  
"For sure. Just a little unwell feeling. He probably just ate from the buscuit dough."  
"I can´t blame him." A soft slap of Lizzie against his chest follows his words and her slap follows a soft smile of his.  
"I thought you´d only nibble from different sweets?"  
"Well... if I would do so now I am locked away myself for the lack of moral in public."  
She giggles again.  
"Mistress, it´s a long way to New York City."  
"You´re right Mary-Ann. We should go now if we don´t want to arrive late at night."  
He reaches the small bag of Mrs. Woodhull up to the coachman, who secures it to the other luggage, and with her and the maid in the carriage he of course aids Elizabeth. "I ordered my men to keep a close look on Whitehall," he whispers to her. For an outsider, it might only look as if he gifts her with verses only meant for her ears.  
"Wisely done, just how only a Major can," she smirks, her fingers playing with the buttons of his waistcoat.  
"You think you can... convince her?" He took her fingers into his hand again.  
"For sure. Finally someone who will listen to her, finally someone who asks about her, who gives her. She gives and gives and gives, how is she repaid? Her fool of a husband is cheating on her. Someone who sees her as a woman and not as a sort of slave. And here we are. Showing her that a marriage of love is possible."  
"Showing her how it should be... I am not quite sure if it was smart or foolish of them to turn you into a spy." His lips are stroking her cheek.  
"Why?"  
"You are so smart and cunning... you can be their glorious saviour but also their greatest downfall."  
She giggles softly. "Well, you know what they say. Women who read are dangerous."  
"And you´re the most dangerous of them all and I love it." He can´t resist and presses his lips onto hers, savours their warmth and softness before drawing his head back and assisting her to get into the carriage. After she sits down, he closes the door and with himself in the saddle again, they start their way to New York City.

"Well, I can´t promise you a dress worth of a queen, it´s too... spontaneous and not enough time."  
"I hope you´ll do your best anyway, Matthew."  
"I always do my best, Miss Shippen. I just say how it is. It´s a whole different thing with the wedding gown I was already engaged with. There is enough time ahead for it. It would suit you too, Miss Shippen. A light and cold blue with silver weaved in, white silk and lace... It´s a dream.  
Peggy Shippen thinks a moment, trying to remember who else besides her own person will marry soon. There is non. "Who will be lucky bride?" She knows very well on her own that he decision to give in was rushed and to marry as soon as possible was even more rushed. Only because of her hurt pride and feelings...  
The tailor lowers his voice. "A Loyalist. Miss Elizabeth Gwillim. The daughter of Admiral Graves is going to marry the Major Simcoe in summer. I´ve heard that he was very successful as the Loyalists took over Philadelphia."  
Her heart makes a jump. Lizzie?!  
He interprets the surprise on his customers face different. "Luckily for my skills and handiwork, I can work for both parties. I pay my taxes and the women of the higher class on both sides would riot if I wouldn´t take care of their wardrobe anymore," he winks.  
She knew her friend went to Setauket for her 'hell of a Captain', who obviously was promoted to Major by now, and a wedding set in winter. She didn´t knew that she was this impatient. How should she? Since Washington's army took over Philadelphia there is no way to exchange information and letters with the loyalist side of this country. But she knows her this well, that Setauket is no place for a wedding for someone like her.  
"I don´t care what you do. If lace, pearls, bows, tafetta or silk. It should just be suitable for a wedding." She is hurt. And she would like to be able to hate the one responsible for it. But her disgust for her fiancé is even bigger and the tailor makes the communication even safer. She hurries to her writing cabinet and scribbles a few sentences on a sheet of paper. "I need you to do me a favour, Matthew."  
"I already do, Miss Shippen, with getting a gown fixed for a weddin within this short amount of time."  
"A bigger favour, Matthew." A small purse is changing its owner. "I need you to give this," she holds the neatly folded paper up, "to Miss Gwillim. We are friends, but... unfortunately on different sides of this political conflict."  
The weight of the purse convinced him. "I do what I can, Miss Shippen," he smiles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Queens Rangers didn´t wore the crescent moon on their hat before Simcoe took command of them. If they wore it to honour Diana, goddess if hunt, is lost to history. There are no evidences anymore why they actually had it then.
> 
> Major John Graves Simcoe was successful in the Philadelphia Campaing through a surprise attack in 1778 on Judge Hancock´s house, killing patriots (militia) and Hancock himself.


	45. A new beginning

"I know how privileged and lucky I am to marry the man I love. I am not naive to think this would be the norm. It is by far not. But I also fought for that privilege. If I wouldn´t have threatened my father to shoot myself, I would be married by now with a fish faced navy officer."  
"That... was pretty radical."  
"But efficent."  
That can´t be denied. "Well... I can be lucky that... well, Abe was merciful enough to marry me after his brother died."  
"Merciful? You are merciful that you took that poor boy as your groom when you have been promised a fine soldier. He can call himself lucky that you are his wife. Look me in the eyes, Mary, and tell me that he wouldn´t be lost without you. You gave birth to your son, you are raising him, you do the laundry, you keep the house whole and clean, you do the finances. I witnessed it, you do that day in and day out. And he? Whatever scoundrels like him are doing the whole day. Obviously not farming and selling the goods. Didn`t he have the chance to follow his father in his footsteps? If he would have cared, if he would be responsible, he would have studied law right away to follow his father into his business, to give his family the best life available. Outside of the town, in a small hut that shakes with every breath is no life for someone like you, Mary. No wonder that it burned down like raw straw."  
She admits, Abe is a miserable farmer. With his father being the local Judge he had a life in the upper class of Setauket, never had a day of hard work in his life and suddenly he got the idea of farming without any basically knowledge about it. The silly dream of a boy who wanted to revolt against his father. She also does not deny how very disappointed she was with the marriage. Her dreams, her idea of marriage was shattered.  
"Not to mention his... liason with Miss Strong. People are talking, Mary," she ads with the look of Mary. "John would never do such a thing to me. None of it."  
"How... can you be so sure? He is a man after all..."  
"I know that he loves me," Lizzie smiles. "And would he otherwise write these to me?" She holds up the paper she read out loud with one of his poems.  
This too, Mary admits, surprised her. That by all men Major Simcoe writes poetic verses when he is off duty. Verses of love and admiration, praising his loved one features, eyes and the character and praising her in poems Madonna-like. How gentle he holds her hand, how gentle and delicate the kisses look he gives her knuckles and cheeks, when his eyes are resting on her he looks as if there is nothing else in this world existing except her, as if... she´d be his universe. She has no idea what love is anymore. She thought she knew it once, she dreamed of it... thought that love needs to grow in a marriage... that with every little thing she does, giving him a son, accepting... whatever is going on with Anna, not complaining and doing all he demands that it would make him love her... but she was a fool.  
"And because he knows I would keelhaul him otherwise." With a smirk she nudged Mary into her side. "You deserve so much better, Mary. We´ll find you a nice soldier in New York City. They would fight for a woman with your look and skills."  
"Elizabeth! I-I am married!"  
"So is your husband... Repay him, Mary. You need to show and remind him of, that he shouldn´t take you for granted. Don´t let him treat you like a fool. Mary, there is nothing a woman can´t do. But there are many things a man can´t do. We are not the small, fightened, little things they think of us to be. They call us Vipers, Black Widows and Lioness. They give their mighty vessels of war female names. They give their canons and riffles female names, very deadly things. Why, I ask you, when we are such delicate little flowers? The gods of Truth, Wisdom, Justice and Liberty are all women. There are so many men in history, Mary, who wouldn´t have ever become King or Emperor or the leader of a mighty army without an ambitious woman in their back. Russia and Austria, two of the mightiest empires we have currently, are ruled by a woman. And our King is a madman..."  
She is... a little bit shocked and surprised. She never heard a woman before talking like that. But she is curious too and drawn to hear more. Thinking about it... she is right. It´s the Brown Bess, for example. And they are called the 'Queens Rangers'.  
"Men are not generous with us, Mary. We need to forge our destiny on our own and we have to take what we want, not caring about what men might think, or society. Society is a construct made my men. They are the ones calling us whores, but we are not the ones who pay for a nice embrace. They say we bring shame over a man's name but they are the ones cheating on us. Is his father treating you any better? Why does Thomas have to stay home, you can tell me the truth. It´s no secret that none of them is friends with my fiancé and are very obviously sceptical towards me because 'Oh my dear goodness, how can I love that man they only know as the soldiers but not the private man beneath the uniform like I do'."  
Mary giggles. "You can do impressions very good."  
"Thank you," she smiles.  
"And I guess I am right to say you know the man beneath the uniform literally."  
Elizabeth laughs lowly. "Are we this obvious?"  
Mary shrugs her shoulders with a nod. "Well... yes. A little bit."  
"You need to promise me to not tell any soul."  
"I promise."  
"Thank you, Mary, I really don´t want to miss it and I don´t want to imagine to wait until the wedding."  
It can´t be... "Really?"  
"How can anyone expect me to see this fine man every day and to live in chastity? This would be cruel." She giggles with seeing the other ones red cheeks. "He is gentle in every aspect and very generous and spoiling. I tell you, Mary... forget the farmer boy and get yourself a fine soldier."

Said farmer boy searches right now in panic the undergrowth for a certain corpse he can´t find. Do the dead live again? Has someone found him? Corpses don´t suddenly stand up and walk away! Damnit! Damnit! Damnit... They placed him right here... right here they dragged him and covered him with a layer of leaves for the animals to find and feast on. He can´t simply vanish! Corpses don´t do that! And if someone found him, then who? And what did he do with the corpse? He hasn´t heard rumors in town, he hasn´t heard Hewlett wondering about the Corporal. He hasn´t heard anything about a corpse that had been found and buried anonymus. Did Rogers placed him in a different spot? He hasn´t told him if so... Maybe animals? No, there would be traces and remains. Well, at least Simcoe is out of town and his fiancée too. He´s not trusting her and he doesn´t like the influence she has on Mary and Thomas. He´s not sure if it won´t be worse when they return. She will be two days under her influence. Two whole days.  
Alright. The corpse is gone. If Simcoe had found him, he would have had right away burning down half of the town to threaten the citizens to give him a murderer. So it can´t be Simcoe. Maybe it was really Rogers and he only hasn´t told him yet. He will wait. Maybe it´s not his problem anymore anyway.

 

"You can be whoever you want to be in New York City, Mary. No one knows you here. No one will know your face or even remember it. This city is full with people and at the harbour is a come and go every few minutes. Take that chance. Here..." Elizabeth pushes a small purse into her companion's hands.  
"No, Elizabeth, no. I can´t acceppt that."  
"Take it, I don´t mind. As long as you promise me to spend it for a little fun time," she winks. "Forget that you´re married. Forget that you´re Mrs. Mary Woodhull. You´re just Mary. You can find riches of all sorts at the harbour. I´ll have a little business to finish and will pick you up again in two hours. Then we´ll go and see how far Matthew is finished with your dress," Lizzie smiles and nudges Mary friendly into her side. "And afterwards you´ll learn to know my father. He will like you, I just know it. You don´t need to worry. The house has enough room, I am sure of it. And he doesn´t mind one more guest. The contrary, I am sure he would like to meet the kind soul that offers me hospitality in Setauket."  
"I don´t know what to say... you are the one who is kind, to me, right now."  
"I only want you to spend this bit and your time on something good, something that makes you happy, alright? Something no one in Setauket can take away from you."  
It was a ride of six hours until they arrived in New York City and the carriage is making its way to the harbour. Mary curiously listened to Elizabeth through the whole ride. About what women should be allowed to do, able to do. How unfair and ridiculous it is that women are excluded from everything. She learned that in history there was a state called Sparta, where women and men had the same rights. She heard from her that in the ancient Egypts portrayed their kings with female hips and tights because it was a sign fertility, only women are able to give new life. There were Egypt women who wore a fake beard and ruled as kings. British Queens who who wedged wars and brought their people glory and victories, a Celtic Queen who even fought the Roman Empire. It was absolutely fascinating. Women who were not satisfied with being wives and mothers, women who were done with being put down because of their gender.  
With the carriage finally stopping, Mary puts away the small purse, before a Ranger opens the door.  
"Right here in two hours again, alright? If anything happens to you, if you miss anything... you see this vessel there? This is the Preston. It´s the vessel my father is commanding. Go over there and say that your friends with me." She pulls her into an embrace and Mary can´t remember when she had been embraced last by someone else than Thomas. "Don´t forget, Mrs. Mary Woodhull stayed in Setauket," Elizabeth smirks.  
Mary giggles shortly. "I´ll try to remember." With the help of a Ranger she leaves the carriage. A nod and polite smile of Simcoe she gets before watching how they continue their way. It´s probably thanks to the uniforms on horses that the people make way for them.  
She´s a little overwhelmed by this mass of people, that crowd. On one side is one vessel lines up to the next with brightly coloured Union Jacks softly waving in the salty breeze. Seagulls are screaming and not every spoken word she hears seems to be English. On the other side are shops offering all kinds of goods. From fish freshly caught out of the sea to jewellery with diamonds from far away places. Even people are offering their services. Simple craftsmanship, so called surgeons and women offering themselves to those who have been to sea for far too long. People with carts pulled by horses or donkeys, transporting sugar, salt or tobacco.  
She is amazed and frightened at the same time. Not even with travelling merchants coming through Setauket had there been this many people. She memorizes the view onto the Preston, to remember the exact point where to meet Elizabeth in two hours again, and takes a deep breath. She decides to go down the side of the harbour to her right. On one side are more impressive vessels lined up and on the other one shop after shop. Maybe she can find something for Thomas. She tries to follow Elizabeths advise and not wasting a single thought on her husband.  
Either through display windows or right in front of the shops the owners are praising their goods. Spices she never saw, smelled, tasted and never heard of. Tea from China, coffee from Arabia, fabrics from India, and gold from Africa. All mixed with stray dogs and cats, catching fish who were supposed to be sold, leftovers or simply searching through the trash, fighting with each other over it or getting stolen from by seagulls when unattended. Gamblers exchanging money with games of checkers. Children running around, trying to pick pocketing adults or openly asking for a few coins. Women with too bright colours on their lips and eyes are praised for their skills, that they have all their teeth and to be healthy.  
Out of the corner of her eyes, she sees how someone drops a small purse. He didn´t seem so recognise and no one else. Mary contemplates for a moment before taking the purse and following the man into a little alley between two houses. She also didn´t want to lose her purse or to be stolen.  
"Sir? Excuse me, Sir! Sir! You dropped something!"  
He turns around, a wide grin on his face. "How very nice of you, young lady."  
"Indeed, incredibly nice."  
"And so honest, such a rare virtue."  
She twirls around and suddenly three men are standing behind her, turning again, three more are blocking her way. Oh no. No, no, no. She should have stayed on her path...  
"Tell me, little lass, from witch countryside are you from?"  
One chuckles. "If you would be from here, you wouldn´t have been so stupid."  
"Fresh and inonncent blood."  
"Please... just let me go." She takes two steps sideways, not knowing where to go to, how to escape. Both, her back and front are blocked.  
"But why? You´ll see, if you are nice to us, we can be very nice to you. It only takes..." The one who lured her with the dropped purse into the alley stopped midsentence and freezes.  
One second later she sees it´s because of the barrel of a pistol hold against the back of his head and a red coat stepping forward. By God... that´s...  
Another red coat steps to his side, looking around there are two more in the back. Four against six, but four riffles and pistols against at the most knives.  
"Haven´t you been told last week to stay away from here, Daniel? And that if you´re caught again once more to lure an honest lady into a trap that you´re going to be flogged?"  
"I wasn´t doing anything, Second Lieutenant, Sir! Really! I-" He shuts up as the grip smashes into the side of his head, making him going into his knees with a sound of pain and a moment later his hands are put into shackles.  
"Let us see how many lashes you can take, Mister Sothenby." More Redcoats appear and all of the predators are put into shackles and taking away. They didn´t made any fuss, probably knowing it would be wiser when looking right into the barrel of a rifle. Their own lives are way too precious.  
She flinched as he smashed the grip of the pistol into the other one's head. She didn´t knew him to be... like this but well... he is still a soldier, right? She is surprised, amazed even that of all people she sees him here. Relieved that he is alive and looks healthy. Promoted even? He was addressed as Second Lieutenant... She knew him as a simple Cadet who rushed out of the house with a piece of toast between his teeth and putting on his coat at the same time to not be late for duty...  
"Are you alright, Madame? Have they done anything to you?"  
She must look like a surprised deer. "Yes... Yes, thank you," she simply nods. The face still so young and innocent, the concern in those warm brown eyes, and the smile. All is still like back then.  
"Don´t worry, Madame. Those scoundrels won´t hurt you and won´t do so to anyone anymore," he smiles.  
She still has to look up to him. She can´t remember him to have been this tall... but it doesn´t... feel threatened.  
"But you should be more careful around here. It´s a common scam by such kind. I wish you a pleasant day, Madame." He smiles and tips against his tricorn, turning around.  
"Wait! - Mister Baker! Sir!"  
With a frown on his face, he turns again by the mention of his name. "Do I know you?" He hasn´t mentioned his name, he is sure.  
"I am sorry - you - you had stayed at our home, our house while stationed in Setauket. About two years ago."  
His face relaxes again. "I am sorry, Madame. I had an accident some time ago and lost part of my memory. I am sorry to not remember Setauket or even you." Though he had been told constantly that he served in Setauket under a Major Hewlett. At least until the evening he had been almost killed.  
"No, don´t be sorry - It´s... it is alright. You are not to be blamed." She is. Abe is. He shot him and she didn´t do anything to either stop him or to call for help..."I am... just surprised to see you here. I was worried as they took out of the town and since then we never heard anything..."  
He steps closer again, a smirk rests on his lips. "Well... you seem to know me. But I don´t even remember your name."  
"Mary," she stops herself for a second before continuing, "Mary Smith." Later she won´t know why she used her maiden name. She didn´t has the intention to follow Elizabeths advise this closely. Maybe because deep down she feared he would remember the name Woodhull and everything else...  
"I am sorry for what happened back then... You - You saved us that night and now... you do so again."  
"Don´t thank me, Miss Smith. I just do my duty."  
She always thought that he was misplaced in the army with such a kind a nice smile.  
"And I take it as a chance for a new beginning. It hasn´t harmed me so far."  
A new beginning...  
"Well... if it isn´t too bold of me, Miss Smith, I would like to ask you if, maybe, you´d like to tell me more about Setauket? And obviously I have to thank you for your hospitatlity."  
It needs only a moment for Mary Woodhull to ponder about it. "I would like to very much, Mister Baker," she replies and links her arm with the one he offers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In roman mythology Veritas is the goddess of truth. In ancient Egypt it´s the goddess Maat. Aletheia is the greek personified spirit of truth.  
> Isis, Minerva, Snotra, Athena and Ishtar are amongst many others goddesses of wisdom.  
> Maat, Ishtar and Athena are also goddesses of justice. (amongst many others)  
> The personification of Liberty/Freedom also always had been female (for example Eleutheria in ancient greece)
> 
> Catherine the Great, Empress/Czarina of Russia ruled over Russia from 1762 until her death in 1796. Officially crowned.  
> Maria Theresia, Archduchess of Austria was never officially a Habsburg Empress of Austria, the title Kaiserin didn´t exist but she was the one doing family and state business while her husband the Emperor had other things in mind. To receite a musical about the Habsburg family "Ich hab gearbeitet - Er hat sein` Kron` geputzt." She ruled over the Austrian Empire from 1740 until her death in 1780. Her daughter Maria Antonia is better known as the Queen of France Marie Antoniette.
> 
> To clear things up:During the Revolutionary War Admiral Graves had the command over the HMS Preston,from 1774-1776. Also: Historically Admrial Graves returned to England in January 1776 and never returned to America. Though he became Admiral of the Blue in January 1778 and Amdiral of the White in April 1782.
> 
> In Ancient Sparta, girls and boys were indeed raised equally. Girls learned too how to read, write and math. Because when men where at war, house and grounds were still needed to be managed.  
> Hatschepsut and yes, Cleopatra too, wore fake beards while they ruled as Pharao over Egypt.  
> Many male Pharaos where indeed portrayed with female hips and tights as a sign for fertility.
> 
> Eleanor of Aquitaine wanted to follow her first husband, Ludwig of France, into a crusade and Elisabeth I fought a war against France, Spain and the scottish conflict around Mary Stuart.  
> The Celtic Queen kicking romans asses is of course Boudicca.


	46. Scarlet Fever

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Proof reading follows later, I am sorry but with it would take longer to publish the chapter and I don´t want you wait.

"Well, I see it as a chance for a new beginning," he smiles at her. "But... I am actually really curious about Setauket. You have the advantage, Miss," he winks at her.   
She is reminded of their first real private conversation. The embarassement and how utterly ashamed she was afterwards to have asked if his parents married of love or only for the sake of their parents, him telling her that he grew up in an orphanage and they, she and Abe and Thomas, had been what he imagined family looks like. It was unfair of her, to project her bitternes and unlucky fate unto someone else. Mostly because his look was simply heartbreaking. And then she sees Elizabeth and Simcoe. It is possible. Love. Happiness. Why should she be denied and excluded from it? Elizabeth said it. Sometimes we have to forge our destiny on our own.  
"It is nice to get to know you again, Miss Smith."  
"Mary. Just Mary," she smiles with a nod, "And it is nice to see you again, well and alive, Mr. Baker."  
"Ensign. When I am allowed to call you by your given name, Milady-"  
She feels her cheeks reddening. Has she ever been called 'Milady'? No.  
"- then please, call me by mine."  
A low nervous laugh escapes her. Milady... She takes a look around. She is a married woman but in the tavern at the harbour no one seems to care for a young woman sitting alone with a young soldier. It´s probably the most seen sight here and everyone else is tied into their own business. Though there are only a few guests and it is pretty calm, probably only because of the time of the day. But... Elisabeth also said: No one knows her here. No one knows who she is. She doesn´t need to care for any reputation. "Alright, Ensign."  
"Mary," he nods. "Earlier you said 'us' while telling me that I stayed at your place in Setauket. Who is 'us'?"  
"Me and my boy. Thomas. He is almost five by now. He could barely walk on his own before you left. He stood on wobbly legs and one second later he fell onto his bum," she chuckles remembering it, such small endearing moments. He joins in with a small laugh. It sounds so warm and heartily. Has it been outside loud and noisy, hectic, it seems to be now quiet and peaceful with him.  
"And his father?"  
"He... he is," she shakes her head, trying to find the right words.  
"Oh... oh, I am sorry! I didn´t intented to... How foolish of me. I am so sorry."  
She looks onto his hand taking hers, squeezing it soflty, looking up to his face, sorrow and sympathy, and realizing it must have sounded for him as if her husband is dead. She returns the gesture. "Thank you." Stupid girl! Stupid, stupid girl! She starts a construction of lies, she is basing the new beginning on lies... She is not better than Abe... but... it feels like... relieve to exclude him from her life for once.   
"I am so sorry, Mary... I was probably more a burden than everything else for a young widow with a small child."  
"No, no, you were everything else than a burden, I can reassure you that. The contrary. You were a great help for us," she smiles. He was more helpful than Abe ever was. She remembers that he once asked her if he can help her with the laundry. A few times he was cutting wood for the fireplace, he would feel bad if he was granted hospitality and wouldn´t do anything in return. And also doesn´t know it different from the orphanage. They all had to work for a bed, a blanket and food. Not to mention that he even saved Abraham once before Simcoe could beat him up really nasty and him being his assistant in the duel. She also never had to mend his uniform. He did it all by himself and she witnessed that he was even pretty good in handling needle and yarn.  
He sighs with a smile. "I still don´t remember Setauket or you but it feels good that I was a little bit of help at least."

"Oh Matthew - It is lovely. You can do heavenly wonders with fabrics."  
"Too much praise, Mylady. The dress belonged to cancelled comission. I added the tafette here and here, finished the ruffles and accustomed it to Mrs. Woodhulls measurements."  
"She will look lovely in this shade of pink."  
"It was a pleasure, Miss Gwillim."  
Elizabeth looks confused as she is handed a folded piece of paper.   
"From Philadelphia, Mylady."  
She looks after him before unfolding the paper and reading it.

_"My dear Elizabeth,_

_how unfortunate of fate that we both are physically on different sides of this political conflict. How much I would have liked to celebrate with you your engagement of heart and it amused me to hear how impatient you are to marry so fast. Was this the reason you left for Setauket? I know, who am I to speak of rushed weddings when I myself call a bride already next month. Be wiser my friend for I fear that we will live from my fortune alone because the Congress ran out of money. He has been passed over a promotion several times - congratulations to your 'hell of a Captain' now being a Major, like every other officer and soldier, hasn´t been paid for two years, his possessions has been confiscicated and he is accused of being indepted to Congress. He is bitter and frustrated towards the General and the Congress._  
 _I hope this note reaches you._  
 _Until we see and embrace each other again._  
 _With love,_  
_Peggy"_

Peggy... she knew about her engagement with General - what was his name? - Arnold but being deeply in love with Major André. She doesn´t sound too happy about her own wedding but as far as she knew her father declined any advances of the Major and mostly now that Philadelphia is in the hands of the Conctinentals it is the safest way for her to marry the General. She is sorry for her friend to not follow her heart. But the information she gives her! The Congress being without any money, neither officers nor soldiers are being payed, that there is someone who has been betrayed and disappointed, turned bitter and furstrated... Oh Peggy, how smart and cunning. She would like so much to out her arms around her now! And how fonderful that they found a safe way to communicate!

Well, Elizabeth said she should spent that money onto something for her own, a small luxury for herself. Who says that a tea with a British officer can´t be a luxury? And in Mary's opinion felt it very good. She hardly recognised how time passed by while sitting in the little tavern opposite of Ensign Baker and his bright smile who is so attentive towards her. He was looking at her as she spoke to him, as he spoke to her, there was a real conversation! Of course he asked her about Setauket but he also asked about herself and Thomas, questions of curiosity for her own person, not only to restall his lost memory.   
She shrieked almost as she realized how much time passed by and that she´s actually already late. But luckily the Second-Lieutenant knows the New York harbour pretty well by now. He knows all the small rat runs. She can´t remember later the way, so many turns left and right but it took not even five minutes until they stand right in front of the _HMS Preston_ , in front of the carriage with Elizabeth and maid waiting outside, two Rangers accompany them. Somehow she is relieved that Simcoe is not there. He knows Baker...  
"There you are, my dear! I was already worried for you." Elizabeth took her into an embrace. "Did you get lost? Are you alright? Thank you very much for returning my dear friend, Second-Lieutenant, Sir."  
Of course she knows military isnignias very well. "I am fine, really. No need to worry. I just... lost track of time."  
Lizzie leans in and whispers with a giggle: "Scarlet fever, my dear?"  
"Lizzie," Mary replies in a hushed whisper, outraged.   
"I really have to thank you, Sir, for bringing her safely back to me."  
"It was a pleasure, Madame and don´t blame her for running late. It is all my fault."  
"We know us from Setauket."  
"Second-Lieutenant Baker, Madame. At your service." He stood at attention, he and the Rangers exchanging simple nods of respect for a fellow uniform on duty.   
"Oh no, it´s enough whe you´re at Mary..."  
"He was living with me and Thomas," she bursts in before she could say her name. "He... saved us from those ravengers but got deadly injured and brought out of Setauket for a better medical treatment. I just occasionally recognised him here..."  
"I have lost my memory and was just too curious what Miss Smith might can tell me about Setauket and my time being there. She is really not to be blamed, Madame."  
A quizzickle look she throws at Mary. Miss Smith? "Oh, well, in that case... If you know each other... then... would you like to be my friends companion for tonights party at the house of Admiral Graves? We celebrate my engagement with Major Simcoe. From Setauket. Maybe you knew each other? I invite you, Second-Lieutenant Baker." A nervous, almost shy laugh. How very cute. Tall, handsome and cute. Mary does have a nice taste. "Of course only when you are off duty, Sir. Don´t worry about the attire, over half of guests are wearing uniform," she smiles, "Blue and green, a little red would be nice inbetween all the dark colours."  
"I am beyond honoured, Miss..."  
"Elizabeth Gwillim. For now."  
"I am beyond honoured, Miss Gwillim but..."  
"Oh please, do it for our dear Mary. I don´t want to seperate two friends who just met again. That would be cruel."  
A sigh. "Only when Miss Smith-"  
Eliza nudges into her side, Mary already nods shyly with reddened cheeks.  
"-has nothing against it... Yes, thank you, Miss Gwillim."  
"Wonderful! Then we´re awaiting you at 8pm. Until then have a good day, Sir."  
"Miss Smith," Elizabeth asks with a smirk and curiosity in her voice as they sit in the carriage again, not missing how her companions eyes followed the British officer.  
"Uhm, well... you said..."  
"What happens in New York, stays in New York. Don´t worry. And it is the perfect opportunity to show off your new dress, it is finished, my dear. Your British Grenadier won´t take his eyes off of you tonight."  
"Elizabeth, I am still married."  
"Mrs. Woodhull is. But not Miss Smith."  
Into what has she gotten herself into...  
"So, you know each other from Setauket?"  
"He was a Cadet -"  
"And now Second-Lieutenant." Lizzie nudges her into her side with a grin.  
"-staying at our home. He... always seemed too kind and noce for the army. His eyes... always big an innocent like the ones of a deer. His smile... he smiled and it seemed like the sun rose anew."  
"You´re speaking in simile, my dear."  
Looking up she sees Lizzies smirking. "He was just always so nice and I was worried for him after the accident he then brought away, out of Setauket... He says the surgeon said he hit his head pretty badly. He can´t remember Setauket at all."  
"And no Mrs. Woodhull but a Miss Smith he will. I am sorry to say this, my dear, that it is I who brings these dreadful news over you but..." She clutches her heart with a sigh. "It seems you suffer of Scarlet Fever," she laughs lowly and a little bit louder as she sees Marys expression on her face. "But who am I to talk... They´re so damn dashing in their uniform, right?"  
Even Mary has to giggle now with blushing cheeks and after Lizzie sung the first verse of The Bold Grenadier she joins in humming along.With arriving at the house of the Admiral, Mary faces a few surprised, almost too many for one day. First by how splendid it looked inside. How much light there was. At Whitehall everything looks so dark. But here... She got even two rooms for the night she stays there. Two! With a short sitting she could feel how comfortable and soft the bed is, how big, and all for her own alone... The second one is a dressing room with a tub and a dresser, a folding-screen too. Then how kind and friendly the Admiral was to her. He thanked her even for the hospitality towards Elizabeth. The fact that Major Simcoe also stayed there was actually no surprise. And even if not, he would have at least spent the night there. Not officially but probably in Elizabeth's arms. About the last fact where Elizabeth and yes, Simcoe too, surprised. Her mother, actually aunt, had arrived. It was... kind of heartwarming to watching their reunion. Of course she would take the next ship to America, couldn´t let her little Elizabeth marry without being there. She could see a slight resemblance between the two women. Definitely the same family. Lizzie was even happy, excited to introduce her to the woman she calls mother. She probably wouldn´t have thought to see her ever here, to have her at her presented at the wedding. She would have liked to have her own still around from time to time...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Scarlet Fever was terminus used for young ladies falling in love in British Soldiers. (my dear Reinette, it´s a complete coincidence ;) )
> 
> Benedigt Arnold put his own money into the war for some time. The Continental Congress indeed passed over his promotion and others took credit for his accomplishments. The Continental Congress indeed ran out of money, wasn´t able to pay its own people and even recieved loans from Europe. And to make it perfect they investigates Arnolds accounts and proclaimed he indepted the Congress.
> 
>  
> 
> The Bold Grenadier (Was already a folk song in the 17th century)
> 
> As I was a walking one morning in May  
> I spied a young couple a makin' of hay.  
> O one was a fair maid and her beauty showed clear  
> and the other was a soldier, a bold grenadier.  
> Good morning, good morning, good morning said he  
> O where are you going my pretty lady?  
> I'm a going a walking by the clear crystal stream  
> to see cool water glide and hear nightingales sing.  
> O soldier, o soldier, will you marry me?  
> O no, my sweet lady that never can be.  
> For I've got a wife at home in my own country,  
> Two wives and the army's too many for me.


	47. Everyone is distracted

"You look splendid, my dear," Elizabeth smiles brightly, admiring the hairdo Mary-Ann just finished at Mary. All pinned up and only a single strand of hair in a gentle curl flatters her neck. A light blush was put onto her cheeks and her lips painted with a colour to emphasize her eyes. "Just wait until you wear the jewellery and the dress. I promise you, your bold British Grenadier will have only eyes for you."  
"I-I am not sure," Mary turns her face from one side to the other, looking at her own reflection in the mirror. "I-I don´t look like myself somehow..." When was the last time she ever wore make-up? Never. And such a hairdo? "Your maid works on hair like a coiffeur."  
"Thank you, Madame. I have years of practice by now, thanks to my mistress."  
"And you never disappointed me," smiles Lizzie. "Just stay here seated, we bring the dress and the jewellery." Together with her maid she walks back to her own rooms where everything for herself is already prepared for the evening, the party to officially celebrate the engagement. With dress, petticoats and shoes she sends Mary-Ann back to Mary while she is a few more moments busy with deciding for the right jewellery for Mary to wear and matching the dress. A low cracking sound makes her turning around and her most beloved ginger appears in the door to the servant corridor. "What are you doing here?"  
"Is that your dress for tonight" He nods towards the bed where, in his eyes, a bunch of fabric is spread.  
"You´re not supposed to see that now," she smiles, pulled closer and kissed as she´s close enough. "John, not now."  
"You´re alone?"  
"Yes."  
"Then it is the right moment."  
She enjoys the kiss that follows. "John, seriously..."  
"I am serious, my love."  
"I can´t," she laughs lowly, while they exchange hushed whispers and kisses.  
"Is aunt Margeret in the next room?"  
"No."  
"Then we can..."  
"But Mary is waiting for me." She keeps him from kissing her again. "What should I say when I only come back an hour late?"  
"That you had a pleasant afternoon," he smirks.  
She slaps him playfully against the chest.  
"John!"  
"It sounds better when you sigh it..."  
"John..."  
"I´ll be quick, I promise, my moon and stars..."  
She laughs lowly, not because of his lips tickling her neck. "It´s never going to be quick when you start to be poetic."  
"You never complained," he murmurs.  
"You´ll have to wait until the night," she smiles, "then you can tell me all the poetic verses you have in mind. Breath these onto my skin," she whispers, her lips shortly pressed onto his jaw line. "But first I need to help Mary and her Grenadier."  
He looks puzzled at her. "Mary? Mary Woodhull?"  
"For tonight she´s Mary Smith," she giggles. "Remember that. She met him at the harbour earlier."  
Well, still waters run deep, they say.  
"Said she would know him from Setauket."  
"Oh, really?" Now he is interested.  
"Yes, his name is..." A sound of frustration leaves her lips. "What was his name... Be-Ba-Baker! Second-Lieutenant Baker."  
Baker? "Ensign Baker?"  
"Yes! I spontaneously invited him, she seemed to be fond him."  
With a smirk he leans against the frame of the door. "I thought you´d be a goddess Venus would be jealous of... But maybe you are Venus when you play matchmaker at every given chance," he smirks.  
"We are lucky enough... so why should others not have the same chance of love? And for that you´ll need to go now." With a last kiss, she shove him back into the corridor and closes the door.  
Ensign Baker... Of course he remembers Baker and the accident at the Woodhull house. Him being deadly wounded and fire that broke out, him making it out of it, but send to New York for a better medical treatment. The last time he heard about him was Hewlett is receiving a letter and informing him that he lost part of his memory and won´t return into active service and Setauket this soon. Apparently he is alive and well and promoted by now. And obviously doesn´t remember Mrs. Woodhull. How very interesting.  
Finally dressed in the new gown and the lend jewellery of Elizabeth it is hard for Mary to recognise herself in the mirror. The gown is so wonderful, she never wants to take it off again. She also never wore before such shiny and glittering earrings, such a heavy necklace and bracelets, even two rings she could find fitting her fingers. She giggles with the thought that Abe would never recognise her like this.  
"Perfect," whispers Elizabeth with her gaze kept on Mary, admiring her and Mary-Anns work. "You look just as if the City of New York always had been your home. They will twist their necks for you tonight."  
"Oh no, I saw the dress you´ll wear. They will do so for you. You´re going to match the Major perfectly."  
"However, there is only one anyway you want his head turning after you pass by and it´ll be as sure as the sun rises with how you look."  
"Elizabeth, we just met. We only talked for about two hours, he can´t remember me at all."  
"Tell those fairy tales to Thomas. You blushed and he blushed too. No one is blushing for no reason. You are fond of him and he likes you. There is no better opportunity to explore it than a small party."  
"I-I am not that sure."  
"Mary Smith is now in New York and will have a fun night. Tomorrow she can tell Mrs. Woodhull all about it," she grins. "And now I´ll have to get dressed myself."  
Her gaze follows Elizabeth as she leaves the room. She will match the Major perfectly tonight with her dress. She ordered it immediately as her father told her of the Majors proposal, she told her. She can´t remember to have ever seen someone being this deep in love like these two turtle doves.

"What have you done with the poor boy?"  
"Why do you ask?"  
"Because I am not sure if he is scared of you or just having a lot of respect."  
The party is going well, the guests are entertained enough by the musicians and the drinks being served and especially the men exchanging their war heroics.  
"A little fear can never be wrong, but the respect should be stronger than fear. If my subordinates would only fear me they would revolt against me one day. But respect leads to loyalty and loyalty is a virtue too rare these days."  
"Now tell, what have you done with him? I swear, if you spoiled it for Mary..."  
"Miss Smith does not need to worry... I just tried to figure out how far his amnesia might go and reminded him that he was my subordinate. Offered him to join the Rangers." He takes a sip from his glass. Both of them, he and Lizzie, are watching Mary how she approaches again Second-Lieutenant Baker. Small laughters, blushed cheeks, shy glances. "If she´s really fond of him imagine the fun we´ll have when he returns to Setauket," he grins, "Also... maybe it triggers his memory and he can tell what truly happened on that dreadful night. That some low class thieves are responsible for it is Banbury story. There never had been such kind around Setauket. No criminal would be stupid enough to commit a crime in a town that inhabits more soldiers than citizens."  
"I like where this is going", she smirks and he mirrors it.

"Well... it is surprisingly warm."  
"Yes, and... the sky is so clear. All those stars."  
"Yes... beautiful, right?"  
Mary turns her gaze from the sky to the man walking next to her and hopes the blush on her cheeks won´t be too visible in the light of the moon and stars. She agreed and taking some fresh air, accompany him for a small stroll through the backyard of the Admirals estate. She liked to dance through the evening with him. At least he enjoyed it as much as she did. Abe never did and... by god, when was even the last time she did dance? She can´t remember it. When was even the last time he told her she looks splendig? Beautiful even? Has he ever tried to charm her with words? A gentle gaze? A charming smile? Talking her in into something isn´t anything she would call charming.  
But here she walks at the side of a charming young man, who always had been kind and nice to her. There... is even adoration in those big brown eyes when he looks at her. She feels the warmth creeping up to her face as he suddenly stops, turning fully towards her. Her breath low, a little flutter starts in her stomach.  
"Miss Smith?"  
"Mary," she smiles. "We agreed on being just Mary and Ensign."  
A nervous laugh. "Yes, I am sorry. It is just... I... I would like to," he stutters, stopping himself, taking a deep breath.  
Before she knows it, she has his lips pressed against hers. It lasts for only the split of a second as she puts her hands against his chest. Immediately he pulls back.  
"I am so sorry! I-I don´t know what has come over me! I am... ashamed and deeply sorry, Miss Smith, I thought... I..." Nervous, terrified, ashamed describes him best. "You- you are so lovely and beautiful, so kind, I- thought..." Now he is the one being surprised as she grabs his lapels, pulling him down and pressing her lips onto his.  


"Everyone is distracted."  
The whisper with the feeling of warm breath stroking her neck tickles her. "And your point is?"  
"Not even Aunt Margaret pays you attention now." Only with her not looking he dares to cross the line of proper behaviour in public. It´s late now anyways, half of the guests are gone, the other half drunk or slightly drunk.  
"So?" She smirks, taking a sip from her glass and slightly turning her head aside.  
"No one would recognise if we... let us say... suddenly disappear?"  
"You mean disappear in... leaving early for bed?" She whispers, still with a smirk on her lips.  
"Yes. It is time for bed. Don´t you think? We will go back to Setauket tomorrow. We need our Goodnight sleep for the long way. Don´t you think? We need to be... relaxed. Well rested."  
She chuckles lowly. "And you think to know the best way is to vanish with you upstairs?"  
"Hasn´t it been so far?"  
She turns more on him. "It always has," she smiles, her fingers playing with the buttons of his coat.  
A chaste kiss onto the corner of her lips. A smirk that turns into a sly smile. One last glance through the room and with an arm around her shoulders, she is led out of the room only be lifted at the staircase into two strong arms holding her close and safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Banbury story - 18th century slang: nonsense.
> 
> I am sorry for haven´t updated for so long.  
> As a big Star Wars Fan (it is basically my life), and the new movie The Last Jedi hitting theaters, I was way too occupied by it to concentrate on anything else. I first needed to get rid of all the thoughts and feelings (I was a crying mess when the end credits rolled and "In loving memory of our Princess Carrie Fisher" appeared, I am still not over the loss of her) before I would turn towards my other projects again.  
> For being sorry you´ll get at least two ships in this chapter :)


	48. Maybe Setauket is the key

The cracking sound of a floorboard interrupts his anyway light sleep. Carefully, to not wake her up, he loosens the embrace of Elizabeth, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. Moving in silence, as if he would ambush an enemy, he collects his clothes and dresses himself half heartily and sneaks towards the door. A look to the window tells him that it´s still deep in the night and the sun hasn´t even started yet to rise. Slowly he opens the door just wide enough to peek out and see who is sneaking around the house at this time of the night and failed in trying to hide himself from being discovered. With a grin he slips out of the bedroom and into the corridor.

He hisses a curse with a floorboard cracking under his step, keeps still for a few, holding his breath a moment before he continues. He shouldn´t have stayed long into the night anyway, he shouldn´t have given in to his feelings anyway. Not to speak of sharing the bed with Mary. Did he seduce her? Was she seducing him? He doesn´t know anymore. He only remembers that it felt good. But it shouldn´t have happened anyway. She is a woman of honourable reputation. It is completely unspeakable and beyond…   
“Second-Lieutenant Baker.”  
He freezes on the head of the staircase, slowly turns around. “Major Simcoe,” he whispers, standing at attention. He only relaxes with the superior officer telling him to. He was nice and friendly during the evening, asking him about his well-being, congratulating him to have risen to Lieutenant, he would have been under his command in Setauket and offered him a place amongst the Queen Rangers… yet he doesn´t get rid of the feeling of something slightly threatening surrounding the Major. Even now, with missing attire, bare feet and half-closed breeches he has an aura of authority.   
“Is it not long past the last post, Lieutenant?”  
“Major, Sir, I can...” A wave of the hand brings him to silence.  
“I don´t care as long as you are not responsible for the population of this place uprising like in a rabbit hutch. I would rather like to know if you decided to return with us to Setauket. I am sure Miss Smith would be very delighted,” he grins, the arms crossed in front of the chest. How delicious it would be. Mrs. Woodhull and Baker, and the cabbage farmer, his dear Lizzie and himself a regular guest, all under one roof. This promises to be fun.  
“Sir, I – I am honoured by your request but… my superior officers, I – I fear I can´t that easily...”  
Another wave of his hand. “That shouldn´t be your concern. Maybe it helps you in your decision to know that the salary is quite nice and the chance in climbing up the ranks is high too. You could beware Miss Smith from getting cold tonight and first thing in the morning I would have a talk with your superior officer. We are respected and feared equally, we are not many but exclusive. Every one of my men is a man I trust. Trust and loyalty are goods too rare these days. Maybe a return to Setauket helps your memory too?”  
He considers his opportunities. Of course, he heard of the Queens Rangers. Who hasn´t? Roaming around the lands and successfully fighting the continentals. And maybe a return to this mysterious Setauket will indeed help to restore his memories. Maybe Setauket is the key, maybe it will help, maybe he will know what happens that night… Everything around Mary seems so familiar, even her name rolling off his tongue feels familiar… It is an unpleasant feeling that there is a gap in his memory. That there is something missing he can´t get his hands on, no matter how hard he tries to remember. He wants to know what happened that night. He wants to know who did this to him.   
“I don´t want to cause Miss Smith any trouble.” A young widow returning home with a soldier – people, country folk especially, tend to talk, whisper, and spreading rumours. She hasn´t deserved it. She has deserved something honest.   
“You won´t when she´s not suddenly mothering two children.”  
He feels his check flushing, tensing from head to toe. “By my honour as…”  
The Major puts a finger to his lips, signing to be quiet and that he doesn´t need to swear anything. Not in front of him.   
“Promise it to Miss Smith, not me. So?”  
He considers. “Yes. Yes, Sir. I am honoured and gladly accept your request.”  
“Wonderful,” the Major cheers lowly. “Until morning then. Goodnight, Ranger Baker.”  
“Goodnight, Major.”

“Whom were you talking to?”  
He freezes at the door, after closing it, with that sleep deprived voice in his back. Of course, she was awake. Fool. She always woke up every time he left the bed. No matter how hard he tried, no matter his skills as soldier to even move silently through undergrowth. She always woke up. He knows she is no light sleeper, but he blames maybe a sort of instinct for it. Some kind of invisible bond between them that she feels somehow when he leaves her side. The poet in him likes to think of them as two parts becoming one, so perfectly fitting together…that maybe her heart physically feels when his leaves her side.  
He turns around with a smile. “It was nothing my love. Trust me.”   
“Then why are you wearing your breeches?”  
She is just too smart, he thinks with a smirk, stepping towards the bed again and undoing the breeches at the same time. She lifts herself slightly up, her face a mask of satisfaction and sleep, cheeks slightly blushed and the wild mane that is her hair framing dishevelled her face. Just like this was Persephone for sure looking like every first night when she returned into Hades arms. “I don´t know what you´re talking about.” He lets them slip down and steps out of these. “I am not wearing any breeches.”  
She smirks. “Just come back already. There are still a few hours before the sun rises… You want to waste them?”  
“Not a single minute.” He slips between the blanket and immediately closer to her. Lying back, she drapes herself around him, tangling her legs with his, resting on his chest and listening to his heartbeat. A kiss onto her forehead, his fingers lovingly stroking through her hair…  
“I love you,” he whispers.  
“I know,” she murmurs.

“What are you still doing here? You should go, you´ll… do they give curfews in the British Army?”  
He laughs lowly. “The worse I could face is a disciplinary action. Writing forms for eight hours straight for a few days. Nothing more.”   
“But your reputation… They can´t find you here in the morning. You need to leave before sunrise.”  
Hushed whispers fill the room.   
“Yes, but only to dress to accompany the Major to my superior officer.” He sees the confused look on her face even in the darkness of the bedroom while he undresses again. “I am going to be transferred.”  
Her heart sinks a little bit. She grants him the position of Second-Lieutenant. He deserved it. With all what happened, he deserved it. And he deserves it even more when he´s getting transferred to a better place, another rank, everything. But… she hoped to maybe… see him again, accompany Elizabeth again when she travels once more to New York. She really would have liked to. “Oh… really? Where to?”  
He slips beneath the blanket, putting a hand onto her neck and pulling her in closer for a kiss. “A surprise, I´ll tell you tomorrow,” he grins, happiness´s written all over his face. Another kiss.   
“The south?”  
“No.” Kissing his way to her neck.  
“The north,” she breathes.  
“No.” The fingertips from the hand on her neck playfully wandering down her spine.  
“Back to England?” Please, not that far away…  
“No,” he giggles, caressing the skin around her collarbone with his lips, teasing her with his tongue and enjoying the small shudder of her he causes.  
“Far away?” She sighs with closed eyes, can hardly concentrate at all.  
“No… close enough…. I´ll tell you tomorrow, yes? Stop thinking now…”  
She can´t think straight anyway right now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am sorry that this chapter took so long and is short. I am sorry.


End file.
